Circenses
by Evaelin
Summary: It's the first Games after the Second Quarter Quell, and Head Gamemaker Axel Tribec, unluckily for the tributes, has to make this one unforgettable, just so he can stay alive. May the odds be ever in your favor. SYOT closed. Rated T for Hunger Games.
1. The Year After

_A/N: I've wanted to do a Hunger Games SYOT for quite a while. Tribute form is below. Here's my attempt._

**Head Gamemaker Axel Tribec:**

I scurried after President Snow as he strode away from his desk. He paused at the window, gazing down at the bustle in the streets below. "I should have you killed for what happened last year," he said, lightly, pressing his fingertips against the glass.

My throat clenched, and I found myself unable to speak. I wanted to beg for my life, to fall on my knees and plea for forgiveness, but I was held in place by the commanding presence of the middle-aged man standing in front of me. My family had thrown me a party when I'd been chosen Head Gamemaker. Of course, at that time, I hadn't known how the last Head Gamemaker had died.

"It's a shame, really," President Snow turned around to face me. "How poor Haymitch Abernathy's parents died. So tragic. Such a promising young man, such a promising young family, _such_ a promising future for them all. Too bad it had to end."

He smiled, and the smell of death gripped me. I almost fainted, but terror kept me standing straight.

"Now, you've only held this position for one year, and last year, it was mostly my design," the President continued. "I'm giving you something I don't usually give other people - a second chance."

My eyes widened, and I found it slightly easier to breath. I felt lightheaded, and the room started spinning around me.

Seeing my relief, the President chuckled. "I really _should_ kill you, Axel," he sighed. "You're quite predictable. It's a bore. I really can't expect you to make a good arena."

Fear shot through me, and I gagged. President Snow looked on in disgust as I retched, bent over, clutching my empty stomach.

"Just leave," he dismissed me casually, "and make this one unforgettable."

His lip curled as I stumbled backwards. "These fools," he said, gesturing out the window, "these fools are still screeching on and on about the last Games. I want this one to be exciting enough for them to stop talking about Haymitch's little trick."

I nodded eagerly, blinking away tears of terror. "I will, Mr. President, I promise, I will, I swear I will," I mumbled as I stumbled into the door, and grasped for the handle.

_Time to find tributes fit for an unforgettable Games,_ I thought.

**Tribute List**

**District 1 (Luxury)**

Male: Jasper Murdoch - 18 [seanthesheep356's cousin]

Female: Jade Murdoch - 18 [seanthesheep356]

**District 2 (Masonry)**

Male: Hayden Levy - 18 [Wish on the Star]

Female: Acelynn (Ace/Lynn) Grey - 18 [The Knife Throwing Expert]

**District 3 (Technology)**

Male: Lindon Yulong - 12 [HufflepuffFinder]

Female: Bo Burgham - 16 [hai-ray]

**District 4 (Fishing)**

Male: Current Beckett - 16 [theplurplefactory]

Female: Riva D'Angelo - 15 [HufflepuffFinder]

**District 5 (Power)**

Male: Eli Asher - 17 [Sallen]

Female: Jocileia "Chayene" Morran - 18 [BecauseofKillianJones]

**District 6 (Transportation)**

Male: Pheonix Wilder - 16 [Fanatic Whovian Writer]

Female: Vera Trellor - 15 [I Write Sins Not Tragidies]

**District 7 (Lumber)**

Male: David Von Cleavan - 14 [whateverfloatsourboat]

Female: Brooke Corebell - 14 [whateverfloatsourboat]

**District 8 (Textiles)**

Male: Patch Burgless - 17 [The Pocketwatch Ripper]

Female: Heron Rayne Andalu - 16 [TheCayennePepperChallenge]

**District 9 (Grain)**

Male: Elias Rendon - 17 [Fanatic Whovian Writer]

Female: Camryn "Cami" Parrish - 14 [StarcrossedLoversOfDistrict2]

**District 10 (Livestock)**

Male: Boss Dalton - 15 [The Pocketwatch Ripper]

Female: Brittany "Britt" Montx (Mon-take) - 14 [AthenaGal01]

**District 11 (Agriculture)**

Male: Grave Red Pettingel - 14 [TheCayennePepperChallenge]

Female: Aria Rosenthall - 17 [Fanatic Whovian Writer]

**District 12 (Mining)**

Male: Joel Crosby - 16 [MoreThanLess]

Female: Evangeline Chauncer - 16 [The Pocketwatch Ripper]


	2. It's a Shame it Ends This Way

**District 3 male, Lindon Yulong:**

He had almost gotten it. Thousands of lines of code later, and he had _almost_ gotten it – just a simple algorithm that would help his future endeavors immensely, but it had slipped out of twelve-year-old Lindon Yulong's grasp night after night. Lindon pushed his large, black glasses up the bridge of his nose as it slipped down for the umpteenth time, slick with sweat from the hot summer night.

Suddenly, the alarm clock that he had built two years prior in a phase when he was briefly interested in tiny mechanics blared a jaunty tune, and Lindon jumped backwards, knocking over his chair, surprised by the sudden intrusion. The boy scrambled forward, slamming his palm against the power button of his clock. He then slowly made his way downstairs, ears perked, wondering if he had woken his parents up early, by accident.

Both were sitting downstairs at the kitchen table, next to his uncle, who seemed to take up the whole room, and his aunt, who seemed like nothing next to her husband. Even Intelle, his best friend and cousin, perched on a wooden stool near the wall. "Ma? Da?" Lindon asked, "What's wrong?"

They all looked up at once. "Oh honey," Beatrice Yulong stood up and gathered her son in her arms.

Cable Yulong, Lindon's father, wheeled himself out from behind the table, and reached up, resting his hand on his son's shoulder. "You've gotten so tall," he said softly. "So tall."

Suddenly, Lindon was scared. "Ma. Da. What's _wrong_?" he asked again.

Intelle looked at him, eyebrows raised. "You really don't remember?" she barked out a laugh, incredulous. "_Today is your first Hunger Games Reaping_."

**District 4 female, Riva D'Angelo:**

Riva could've almost been sitting in front of a mirror, if her mother had spent more time in the sun. Marina D'Angelo smiled wryly at her stubborn daughter. "You look good in dresses," she told Riva, "You may not believe it, but honey, you're a knockout in dresses."

"It makes my shoulders look broad," Riva muttered under her breath.

But today was the reaping, and she promised herself she wouldn't argue too much with her mother. District 4 usually had a Career or two battling it out to volunteer, but one could never be too safe. "Alright, maman," Riva consented, biting her lips. At least her mother hadn't screamed too much last night, when Riva didn't come home until after curfew helping Rhys, her favorite fishermen, unload his catch of the day, a deep-water tarpon that must have been over 100 kilos, at the docks.

Marina D'Angelo stood up, and took her place behind her daughter. "You have lovely hair. I wish you hadn't dyed it. It would've been chestnut, like mine." Marina continued on her train of thought until one hundred brushes were finished. "Now put this on."

Riva's mother held out a white, long-sleeved, lacy dress. "Now you're pushing it, maman," Riva grumbled. But without too much protest, she slipped it on, and threaded a worn, leather belt around the waist.

Glancing into the mirror, Riva admitted that she didn't look _all_ too bad, and the smile on her mother's face at the moment's peace between the mother daughter pair gratified Riva. _Might as well indulge her once or twice_, Riva thought. _She did give me a thing or two, growing up_.

"See how good you look?" Marina gloated, tapping her hands together gleefully.

"Alright, maman," Riva rolled her eyes. "I have to go now. Catch up with Cecilia and Quinn and Toby before the Reaping."

Riva slipped on a pair of leather sandals, made from the same material as her belt, and padded her way downstairs. Her mother followed her down, and in the living room, stood Riva's father, Orion D'Angelo. The pride that swelled her father's chest made it hard for Riva to keep from grinning as she tiptoed up to hug the usually stern man before heading out again.

**District 7 male and female, David Von Cleavan and Brooke Corebell:**

David seized Brooke from behind, pinning her arms to her chest. Brooke jumped, pushing her attacker away, and whipped around, throwing a fist wildly in her attacker's direction. David smiled mischievously, eyes sparkling like the sea, as he grabbed her wrist, aimed inches away from where his face actually was.

Brooke glared at him in mild annoyance, flipping her bangs from her face. "You always were bad with that," David remarked. Brooke's eyes flashed with anger, but before she could say anything, David silenced her, covering her mouth with his lips.

Brooke pushed him away half-heartedly. "Reaping's today," she said.

"All the more reason to spend time with you," David tilted Brooke's chin up as to stare into her deep ocean eyes. "Right?" David drew his girlfriend as close to him as he could bring her.

"Well… Alright." Brooke softened against him. A while later, she looked up, and asked, "What happens if I get reaped?"

David laughed, and closed his eyes, resting his chin on the top of her head. "You won't," he said, decisively.

She pushed at his chest. "What if I _do_."

"Hey," he grabbed both her shoulders and leaned back. "Don't say that. But if you do, I will volunteer for you. To protect you in the Games. I love you."

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, before he grinned.

"But neither of us, I repeat, neither of us, will get reaped." He brought her back into his arms, and she snaked her arms around his waist.

"You idiot," she whispered into his shirt.

They pulled apart again, to get themselves ready for the main event of the day. As she walked away, she called back to him, "Oh, and you are _not_ volunteering for me if I get reaped. We are not both going to die."

**District 8 female, Heron Rayne Andalu:**

"And ya know what's the worst thing about her?" Heron complained. "It's like the last day before the Reaping, like you know, the last day I could see her. And you think if she's really caring about me, she'd tell me she's okay with all my choices and stuff. Because ya know, it's _my_ choice to be with you. Damned tracker jacker, that girl is."

Heron's boyfriend, Parker, grunted, and got up. "Whatever," he said, pushing the diminutive girl off his chest. "Reaping's soon. Should change or something."

Heron glared at him. "Oh yeah, and you care so much."

"Whatever," Parker repeated, leading the girl out by her arm.

"You're hurting me." There was a warning in the girl's voice.

"Yeah," Parker mumbled, "Sure."

He pushed the girl out his door, and onto the street. "Hey!" Heron shrieked, "You can't _do_ this."

The door closed behind her, cutting off her protests. A couple of carts passed by the girl, almost running over her. "Watch where you're going!" a cart driver grumbled. Heron looked away, and shoved her hands in her pockets, feeling the hard sides of the deck of cards Parker had given her when they first started "dating" a year ago.

"You watch where you're going," Heron said inaudibly, and scuffed her heel against the hard dirt ground. Walking home, she desperately wished she didn't have to see her parents, but this one day a year, she made sure she went home. It was where all her clean clothes were. _At least my parents approve of Parker_, Heron thought, thinking bitterly of her best friend, Evelyn, with whom she'd argued the night before. Heron couldn't understand why Evelyn didn't like Parker. Heron and her boyfriend shared all the same interests – blackjack, poker, roulette, going to the slots… He even appreciated when she made a really good pick from the pockets of one of the richer fools in the District.

Suddenly, Heron found herself at her front door. Deep in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed when her walk came to an end.

"Just don't understand that girl," Heron muttered, and opened the door to go in.

**District 9 male, Elias Rendon:**

Elias was filed with a sense of purpose. He _knew_. His eyes were closed, and he leaned back against the cold, stone wall of the Justice Hall. Even the Peacekeepers didn't bother him, though they wouldn't anyone else near the area when the Reaping was to come.

Elias was the son of two field workers in District 9, who both died in accidents when he was a young boy. Instead of letting the orphanage take him when they came to collect the boy, he lived on the streets, always somehow managing, despite the lack of the basic needs of life – food, water, and shelter.

For a few years in his life, Elias had found his way to the forest, and made his way there for several years on his own. By the time he'd come back to the District, the people had forgotten about him already, since he had little ties to his birthplace. Most people didn't notice him for a while even after he returned, until he began speaking to people who believed in him, teaching them about nature, the power of nature, and how the earth was weeping for them and the blood spilt.

Elias dove deep into his memory, and pulled the brightest spot of sunshine to the surface. There were no faces to match the voices, but he knew that that didn't matter. A woman's soft voice caressed him, and a man's firm presence hovered close by, telling a three year old Elias they loved him.

The Peacekeepers were wary around Elias, and left him sitting in his space. He wore a shirt of dried, woven reeds and cotton pants he'd found one day, just on the street. Things happened to him that didn't usually happen to other people. Elias didn't believe he was special. He just knew he was perceptive.

Elias took deep breaths, inhaling the scent of golden fronds bending and twisting in the wind, pliable to how the world wanted to mold them. A smile appeared on his unlined face, absolutely sure in his decision, completely certain in himself. What he was about to do was a good thing.

**District 10 female, Brittany "Britt" Montx:**

Brittany combed her own hair in front of the one mirror in her family's two-room house. She bit her lip as her arm accidentally bumped against the side table, hitting a day-old bruise on her elbow. Today was the reaping, and even though Brittany had taken out six tesserae already, she knew the odds were in her favor – she wouldn't get reaped. There were far too many people for her to get picked, and at least today, she wouldn't have to deal with Rachel, that blond merchant's daughter.

Picking up the worn overalls she'd laid out on her cot for herself, Brittany dusted herself off for the last time. She might as well look good for the Reaping. Sarah would be there, and even if Sarah was Rachel's best friend and Rachel never did let Brittany have a moment's peace, Brittany still loved seeing Sarah. Sarah was beautiful. An angel, the only angel in District 10.

Brittany stood up with a smile. She couldn't wait to see Sarah again.

**District 11 male, Grave Red Pettingel:**

Grave grinned at Peoria, running his fingers through his hair. "How's it going, Pey?" he called out.

She wrinkled her nose. "What do you think?" She jogged up to join him in line. "Hate getting my blood taken. Even if it's just a little. And, oh yeah, we're about to go into the reaping for the Hunger Games."

Grave bit his lip. He knew the feeling. The feeling of emptiness in his stomach, even after a big breakfast for the first time in a couple of months. The gnawing fear at the back of his mind, even though he knew that statistically, he probably wouldn't be reaped.

"Don't be worried," he said jovially, "You and I both know that we're fine. Come on. Be logical!"

He casually put his arm around her, heart pounding. They were close to the front, and would have to part ways soon. "Pey-" Grave began.

"Yeah?" she asked, absentmindedly.

But the Peacekeeper waved Grave forward impatiently, and Grave reluctantly took his arm from around Peoria, and stepped forward. He winced as the man sitting at the table stabbed Grave's fingertip with a tiny needle. "Thanks, man," he said, slapping the Peacekeeper on the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," the Peacekeeper responded, but smiled at the good-humored young man.

"Move on," another Peacekeeper shouted roughly at the throng.

Grave pushed forward into the crowd, and into the fourteen year old pen. He tried to catch Peoria's eye, but she was busy talking to one of her schoolmates. After a while, he gave up, and looked up at the stage. The technicians were making their last minute adjustments, and the mentors were already onstage, sitting in their respective chairs. Grave eyed the two glass bowls onstage, filled with thousands of names. He swallowed, clenched his jaw, and stared at the stage until the lights began to brighten and the technicians' bustle slowly lessened. The ceremony would soon begin.

**District 12 female, Evangeline Chauncer:**

Eve slipped into the sixteen year old pen just as the Mayor droned, "…to the custody of the Capitol. And then transferred to a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor…"

The Treaty of Treason. Eve had heard it every single year since her birth. She'd been helping her grandfather tidy up his curiosity shop down the street, and they'd lost track of time. She then had to help him so that he wouldn't miss the Reaping, so they were both slightly late, but not punishably so.

Eve smoothed the wrinkles out of her outfit. She wore a button down white shirt, under a cream colored long sleeve sweater, with a deep wine skirt that went to her knees. One of the benefits of having a curiosity shop in the family was that desperate people would sell amazing items for incredibly low prices. Her outfit was one of the many good things that came out of the shop.

By her side was a skeletally thin girl Eve knew only as a repeat seller to the curiosity shop. Some people in this town really had the nerve, trying to sell Eve next to worthless things to get some money, claiming that their families were starving or their children were dying. _They'd better not jinx themselves_, Eve thought mildly.

The girl next to Eve was shaking. Eve sighed pityingly. The girl should try drinking more milk; it was clear that she lacked calcium and fat in her diet. The girl looked down at Eve. Even though Eve knew how to balance her diet clearly far better than the rest of her district, she hadn't grown much. But whatever height Eve may have achieved had turned into a curvier body for the five-foot tall girl, and Eve didn't really mind her assets. Eve smiled charitably up at the skeletally thin girl, who looked away in what seemed to be mild exasperation.

Having ignored the Mayor's speech completely, Eve looked up again to see the district escort, who seemed to have been dipped in a vat of gold, clop onto stage on what could have only been described stilts. The escort bowed, and beamed at the rows of terrified children staring back at him.

"Time to get Reaped!" he radiated.

_A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter - SYOT's really are great. I hope I did everyone's character justice; I didn't write everything from everyone's point of view, and I won't do it, because I find it repetitive. Send me feedback; I think I did great with this chapter, but I need other people's opinions, because I'm pretty biased!_


	3. Halfway to Heaven from Here

**District 2 female, Acelynn Grey:**

If that Granite girl thought she could reach the stage before Acelynn could, then she was dead wrong. Acelynn fingered the spear charm dangling from a silver chain around her neck. Since the event had begun, Acelynn had not taken her eyes off the other girls in the district that seemed a bit too eager for the actual reaping to take place. She saw them inching forward as the Mayor practically acted out the Treaty of Treason onstage, enthusiastically reciting his speech with exaggerated arm waves and flourishes. Nothing escaped Acelynn's eyes.

By the time the escort had clomped onto stage in what seemed to incredibly impractical iron boots, Acelynn was directly behind the 18 year old girls who had made their ways up to the front of the stage during the ceremony. Everyone knew it was Acelynn's turn to fight for glory – she'd performed best in the Final at the Academy, and she'd been performing best for years and years past. But if Acelynn didn't manage to volunteer first and some other girl, like that Granite girl, reached the stage before Acelynn, then Acelynn would be out of luck. After all, no one would dare lay hand on a tribute of the Games.

The District 2 escort Claudius Septimus reached into the first bowl for the name of the female tribute. Acelynn saw Kali Granite tense, lips parted to shout her intentions on volunteering as District 2's female tribute. In one swift motion, Acelynn swept her leg, kicking out the back of Kali's knees. Leaving the other girl collapsed in a heap on the ground, Acelynn vaulted herself over the edge of the stage to stand next Claudius, the escort. She straightened her leather jacket over her red tank top, and smirked.

Acelynn plucked the microphone out of Claudius's grasp and announced clearly, "I volunteer."

The other girls who'd wanted to try for tribute hadn't even had the chance to react.

**District 3 female, Bo Burgham:**

"Bo Burgham! Come up on stage!" Vera Moda read out excitedly. Pitying murmurs ran through the crowd, as the sixteen year olds parted to let Bo through. The escort announced Bo's name again, as if the girl had won a lottery for a lifetime in the Victor's Village rather than the lottery for almost certain death.

Bo stood in place, still as a statue. Maybe if she didn't move too much, no one would notice her.

Suddenly, Bo was ten again. Her brother, Plato, had just turned twelve. Plato and Bo had been so close as children, inseparable – until, of course, they were separated. One day, Bo was sent to live with her aunt and uncle, given the reason that Plato had to "train very hard" to support the family. Plato was made to learn all about edible plants and insects while Bo learned technical skills and algebra. Plato ran every morning and learned weaponry while Bo learned about the inner workings of a touch-screen pad. Bo had been reunited with her brother again at the age of ten, but all of the sudden, everything was awkward. They had nothing to talk about, and they had no interests in similar. But the biggest shock – Plato, now twelve, had to take out tesserae. For their family and their well-being, Plato had to train so he'd be ready for the Hunger Games, and once he was ready, he had to take out tesserae for them all. Bo was to be safe, with an impressively low chance of being Reaped.

But now, approaching the stage with Peacekeepers roughly dragging her by her upper arms, Bo knew her family's plan had not worked. Tears sprang to her eyes, which was something that had stopped happening after the first month Plato had left her. The odds were not in her favor. The odds were never in her favor.

**District 4 male, Current Beckett:**

Current kissed the blue-tinted cheeks of the multi-colored escort, who blushed from her golden fingernails to her pink eyebrows, before turning to the audience with a slightly crooked smile. He winked and waved at a few cameras, taking in the modest applause that rose from the throng of teenagers. The only cry of dissent came from the back of the audience, from his little sister, Naia, whom his parents tried to restrain.

An ocean of emotions tumbled through Current's head, and he could barely see the stage in front of him. He nervously smoothed down his white button-down before catching himself and shoving his hands roguishly into the pockets of his black suit pants, passed down from his older cousin.

Macys Entenmanns, the district 4 escort, snaked her purple left arm dangerously low around Current's waist. "Our two wonderful tributes from District four!" she squealed at the cameras.

Current linked hands with Riva. He could feel her shaking, but her smile was just as ruthless as before. _For her it's all for the cameras_, Current thought. _For me, it's all for Naia_.

**District 5 male, Eli Asher:**

Eli clutched his stomach, doubled over on the plush wine rug, retching. His life had flashed before his eyes time and time again since he'd gotten off the stage and into the Justice Building. He was a pig being sent off to the slaughterhouse.

A fuss stirred outside the door, and Eli looked up, squinting at the bright artificial light stinging his eyes. Eleven-year-old Hazel burst into the room in a flurry, followed closely by their father, and then their mother. "Eli!" Hazel cried out breathily, "We came as soon as we could. There was such a crowd! All those people, they all wanted to see us. But we only wanted to see you. Oh, Eli."

Before Eli had time to respond, she was on him tighter than a vise. When Hazel pulled away again, Eli saw the tears in her eyes, but still she smiled brighter than the sun, the light bulbs seeming to dim in her presence.

Eli's mother stood behind his sister, dabbing at her eyes with an old handkerchief clutched tightly in her fist. His father took long strides towards Eli, and grabbed his shoulders firmly. "Eli," he said quietly. "Son. I believe in you. I know we aren't trained like the higher districts, but I know you. You aren't as built as those Careers, but here's what you do have: you have heart, and you have brains. You will not die, because you have to come back to us. We're waiting for you."

At the last sentence, his father's voice cracked, and he withdrew to hold Eli's mother in his arms. Hazel came forward again, excitedly holding something in her grip. "I found this on my way to the Reaping today. I was going to wait until after to show you, so we could press it under the mattress again like we always do, but…" Hazel trailed off, and a tear squeezed its way out

"But then I got reaped." Eli nodded at his sister, keeping a smile fixed on his face, even though his stomach had started rolling again. "It's fine."

Hazel laughed bitterly. "Fine? No, it's not fine." She opened her hand, and the petals of a little yellow flower fluttered in the breeze of the air conditioning unit of the room. "Here you go. We might not have enough money for some fancy gold necklace or ring for you to take away as a token, but I want you to have something to remember me by. So this will have to do." She offered it to her older brother, not taking her eyes off him, trying to memorize him as best she could.

Eli swallowed hard, throat dry. He tried to smile again, but failed. "I love you all so much," he sobbed, and the family held themselves together for another half minute before the Peacekeepers barged in to separate them all again.

**District 8 male, Patch Burgless:**

The camera loved him. Patch smirked as the reporters, male and female alike, squealed and followed him with their cameras and microphones in tow. "Patch! Patch!" They clamored to get his attention.

"Wealthy playboy Patch Burgless, son of Patchy Burgless, the manager of six factories in District 8, has been given the opportunity to represent his District in the fifty-first annual Hunger Games!" a reporter effused, running along the path from the Justice Building to the train. Patch saluted that camera, laughing. The reporter pretended to faint.

Finally, the group of Peacekeepers, mentors, the District 8 mentor, the District 8 female tribute, and Patch Burgless reached the train. A servant silently slid the doors open for the group, and everyone except the Peacekeepers slipped in. The doors shut quickly behind them, cutting off all the noise and excitement from the cool, rich interior of the car.

Patch immediately dropped the charming boy act, and rolled his eyes at his effect on the Capitolites behind him. The train sped up soundlessly and before anyone had started speaking, they were hurtling through the fields towards the Capitol. Patch took this time to check out the girl tribute, standing next to him. She was named after some sort of bird, he believed, Crane, or Loon, or something. She wasn't his type. She was too thin, with not enough curves on her bones, and while cute, still rather average looking and not nearly exotic enough for Patch's taste, but Patch never was one to discount a cute girl immediately. She could still surprise him – some of the lower District 8 girls were really interested in doing some…well, some very interesting things in bed.

Ignoring Bird-girl for the meanwhile, Patch turned his charm up on the escort lounging in a velvet chair. "Oh, have you ogled your surroundings enough already?" Taiga Maximus, the District 8 escort asked the pair.

Patch blinked, surprised at the middle-aged woman's reaction. Patch supposed the woman was different from the other Capitolites, because she didn't seem to care as much for keeping a slim, toned figure, or for keeping a perfectly wrinkle free face. That, and she certainly didn't dress like the average Capitolian, but Patch didn't think she would be ultimately be all that different from everyone else from the Capitol Patch had come in contact with. Patch, apparently, was wrong. Patch ran his fingers through his hair. _So how do I deal with her?_

Taiga Maximus waved the group through a set of wooden doors that slid open when the group neared it, revealing a large common area with one wall that seemed to just be a giant television monitor that showed replays of past Games. The room was extravagant, more extravagant than Patch was used to, but clearly it was much less unexpected for Patch than it was for Bird-girl, who stood stock still, slack jawed, trying to take in her surroundings. "What, never seen a table before?" Patch joked, elbowing Bird-girl in the shoulder. He'd meant to aim for her ribs, but he'd missed. It wasn't his fault she was so short. Bird-girl glared at him and stepped away to sit huffily down on the dark leather armchair a couple of meters away.

Patch grinned. Feisty. He liked that in a woman.

"Are you done?" Woof, the District 8 male mentor asked softly to Patch, snapping him out of his reverie.

Patch blinked. "Yeah," he smirked good-naturedly, "So. Let's get this thing started."

**District 9 female, Camryn "Cami" Parrish:**

"What you should do," the District 9 escort Greenwich Connecticut suggested, "is go to your room at the end of the hall – Cami, honey, yours is to the right, and Elias, sweet, yours is to the left – shower, and change out of your dirty clothes."

Cami's eyebrows furrowed of their own accord. The dress she wore was the best she had: a bright blue, strapless number that came to her knees, passed down from her aunt. Sure, it was old, and worn, but the color made her stand out in the audience. Of course, standing out in the audience was not something she had to worry about this time around, but that was beside the point.

Though Cami's heart hadn't stopped racing since the Reaping, Cami drew a sharp breath, set her hands on her hips, and opened her mouth to tell Greenwich off for thinking the escort could tell the girl tribute what to do and what to think. However, Elias, her district partner, lightly grabbed her elbow, and led her outside into the hall again. Cami normally would've protested, but this boy gave her a strange feeling. He was so calm, so cool, so collected, and so externally different from what Cami internally was feeling that Cami immediately trusted him. Cami normally wasn't this docile, but Elias just sent off this vibe that Cami couldn't argue with.

"Escorts are sponsor pulls," he said, simply, and disappeared down his end of the hall before Cami could think up a witty response.

But what Elias said made perfect sense to Cami, so without further complaint, Cami pushed open the door to her room, and stepped inside.

**District 10 male, Boss Dalton:**

Boss was almost surprised to see that his skin was creamy under the mud and the dirt that seemed to shed in layers in the Capitol shower. At least the streaks of brown hadn't washed out of his hair, and he hadn't gone platinum blond. There was a giant mirror in the bathroom, taller than he was, almost engulfing a whole wall. He wasn't one to show off, but he had to admit he wasn't bad looking. Decent muscle tone from wrestling animals into submission, clear blue eyes, nice enough skin, Boss thought he had a chance with the sponsors.

After a while, he heard pounding on the door. "Boss, come out!" An unfamiliar woman's voice called for him. "We're meeting in the main area again."

Boss snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for a piece of cloth to dry off with. He found nothing but a few buttons on the wall, which he decided must do something. Boss pressed one that matched the color of his skin almost perfectly, and nozzles emerged from the wall. Suddenly, Boss found himself being sprayed with some heavy cream of sorts all over his body. It tasted absolutely awful.

A few minutes later, Boss emerged from the bathroom, glistening from the spray. He'd managed to turn it off, but only after he'd been thoroughly covered. Another tentative button press enveloped his body with hot air, and in a matter of seconds, he was dry, yet still slick.

Boss slowly approached the wardrobe, hoping nothing unexpected would pop out of it. He flung open the doors, and tensed, waiting.

Nothing happened.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Boss began perusing his choices. Rejecting rows of pastel colored clothing, Boss finally settled on dark brown leather pants that flared out on the bottom, with only mild embroidery around the borders, that reminded him of home, and a plain white t-shirt, which had seemed glaringly out of place in the midst of so much fancy, decorative apparel. The clothes fit him perfectly, an unnerving experience for Boss, who usually never had clothes that fit, usually receiving hand-me-downs from his father, or either of his two older brothers. He was glad to be rid of his reaping outfit, which, though he was fond of, was growing old. His jeans had torn slightly a week before, but his mother was one of the few chosen to harvest the new millet, so she had no time to help him mend it.

One thing he did keep from his old outfit was the silver star pin from his shirt collar. That was his token, and it was one thing he would never let go of.

**District 11 female, Aria Rosenthall:**

The shower had definitely refreshed Aria. The steam seemed to clear up her lungs and her nausea, which had been acting up since the Reaping. Aria thought she might actually have a chance at the Games, knowing that she could probably mentally outlast any and all of the other tributes, but physically she knew she was lacking. If only she weren't afflicted with her disease, Aria knew she'd be able to return to her mother and her twin brother, and do her late father proud.

Aria now sat cross-legged on a giant, sequined silk pillow in front of Chaff and Seeder, who were familiar to her as the mentors who sat in front of the crowd on the stage at the Reaping yearly, looking more and more disillusioned every time. She had a faint smile on her face as she tucked into the delicacies that sat on a nearby cart. Chaff and Seeder looked on, most likely reminiscing about the first time they'd tried Capitol food.

Aria was stuffing a flaky, sweet, golden brown treat dusted with powdery sugar into her mouth as Grave Red Pettingel, her district partner, walked in, followed by a swaying, bright red man in his thirties.

"I see you've gotten started without us!" the man joked in a bass that seemed too deep to be coming from his thin frame. He then let out a high-pitched giggle, which seemed to suggest that his skin color was only half due to Capitol dyes and surgeries, and half alcohol-induced. Aria swallowed a mouthful, and stood up, dusting her hands of powdered sugar. She reached out for a handshake, and the scarlet escort took her hand. But rather than shaking it, he bowed down low, and kissed her ring finger. Aria blushed almost as red as the man who had taken her hand, and quickly withdrew her arm.

Seeder seemed to sense Aria's discomfort, and quickly stood up, pulling Aria to sit near her on a nearby sofa. "Chaff and I discussed. We decided it would be better if we, as mentors, stuck to our gender. That is, I have decided to mentor you, and Chaff has agreed to mentor Grave Red."

Aria turned to look at the older woman, who reminded her slightly of her mother. It must have been the way Seeder's golden brown eyes melted and melded Aria's deep brown into hers. Immediately, Aria felt at home.

The television turned to a different channel on its own accord. Aria jumped in her seat, and turned her attention to what was playing. Two seemingly identical men in suits, grey streaking their hair and beards, sat in front of a table, shuffling papers. After the intro song played, they looked up simultaneously, and smiled at their audience. "And now," they announced together, "What you've been waiting for all day and talking about all year, ladies and gentlemen – a recap of the Reaping."

Aria sat back into her seat, and smiled confidently, but her stomach felt as if it were on fire with nerves, as she would finally be able to see her competition, and to see what the audience would first see when they saw Aria Rosenthall, the female tribute from District 11.

**District 12 male, Joel Crosby:**

Joel lounged in his long, red chaise of choice in the common area. To outside observers, he looked completely uncaring. However, watching the recap of the Reaping, Joel was as alert as he'd ever been, his mind whirring with calculations and trying to grasp onto every bit of information it could. Joel had promised his family he'd be a repeat of what had happened last year, winning just as Haymitch Abernathy did, but seeing his mentor now, he realized that Haymitch wouldn't be too much help. The drunken mentor lolled under a nearby table, grasping the neck of a whiskey bottle as if it were his savior.

The first tributes of the 51st Hunger Games, from District 1, came onto stage confidently, as usual. The two looked very similar – and then Joel heard their names. Jade and Jasper Murdoch were the twin tributes from District 1. Joel scoffed. Didn't they know only one could come out alive? He supposed the family didn't care which child the glory came from, but just that they got the glory somehow. _Typical Careers,_ Joel thought. They both had pale skin, blue eyes, but instead of the typical blond hair, light brown, shiny hair. The girl caught his attention, however. More than the typical seductive female District 1 tribute, Jade Murdoch seemed to be crueler than usual. Her eyebrows arched in a way that sent shivers crawling down Joel's back. Her gaze pierced the camera, and the calluses on her hand, noticeable only because the television had crystal clear definition, showed that she was more than a typical "girly-girl" and a hard worker.

The District 2 tributes didn't calm Joel down, either. Joel usually wasn't this nervous, but the speed of Acelynn Grey, the girl tribute, had Joel sitting up slightly straighter than usual. She wasn't the huge brute as the usual District 2 Careers were, but her size would only increase her agility and help her in the Games. The male seemed more the usual District 2 Career – giant and terrifying, towering over the others on the stage, with muscles like boulders. No one even dared challenge him for position of District 2 male tribute, and Joel knew this meant something about Hayden Levy's reputation in his District.

The District 3 tributes were smaller, and calmed Joel down considerably. They were both terrified, shaking onstage. The girl at least had managed to get herself up onstage in one piece, but the twelve-year-old boy tribute, Lindon Yulong, tripped on the stairs as he tried to make his way up. The close-up of the father in the wheelchair only pulled Joel's heartstrings further, as he felt a twinge of regret that this chubby little boy had to die in a few weeks.

Surprisingly enough, District 4 had no volunteers, and both tributes were reaped. However, both seemed to have had training, and Riva D'Angelo and Current Beckett both seemed confident as they stood up onstage next to their proud escort, who acted as if she'd given birth to them herself.

District 5 surprised Joel. The girl, Jocileia Morran, actually volunteered. She stood up on stage, a completely impassable look on her face. Next to her, the shorter seventeen-year-old Eli Asher seemed a bit hopeless. The boy seemed perfectly nice, but Joel kept in mind to continue watching Jocileia to make sure she wasn't a threat.

District 6 was given a long time onscreen, not because of the girl, who seemed nervous and sweet as usual, but because of the boy. Phoenix Wilder, or, as he would rather be called, The Red Flight. The boy seemed to believe he was a superhero. Joel almost laughed aloud when "The Red Flight" announced himself onstage, but managed to keep a straight face. Phoenix seemed rather strong for District 6, but Joel didn't know if a superhero would want to kill, and therefore Joel deduced that this Red Flight character wouldn't be much of a threat to him. The boy's story certainly was interesting though – rather than clapping for him, the townspeople began growling and complaining, a few people even calling him a fraud. This confused Joel quite a bit, and he decided if he had time, he would figure out exactly what had happened to cause this reaction.

The reaping in District 7 caused Joel to snort and roll his eyes. A girl was reaped who seemed confident enough – Brooke Corebell. She seemed decently well fed and strong, and Joel would've definitely kept an eye out for her, if what happened next had not occurred. Before the escort even reached into the bowl for the District 7 male tribute, a boy's arm shot up, and one David Von Cleavan volunteered. The girl veritably screamed at the boy as he ran up to the stage, and it didn't take Joel long to figure out that the two were a couple. Joel stopped worrying about the two. It didn't take a genius to figure out how to destroy the two.

Joel completely dismissed the girl from 8 immediately. Heron Rayne Andalu couldn't even hold herself together onstage. The boy, however, seemed to be a much greater threat. He was decently muscular, but what was most threatening about him was that he had appeal. In other words, Patch Burgless was attractive, and the most likely out of any of the boys to get sponsors. Joel caught the words "playboy bachelor" before the screen finally switched from close-ups of Patch Burgless' eyes, nose, and lips, to the District 9 reaping.

Camryn Parrish from District 9 tried to keep herself together, but ended up crying in front of an audience of millions. However, most of the millions must've forgotten her immediately, as the boy tribute from District 9 was, perhaps for the first time in history, or at least in a very long time, a volunteer. Elias Rendon was shabbily dressed, and seemed lean, but not particularly strong or favorable to win the Games. However, he exuded an aura of calmness and even the reaping announcers toned down their excitement when he stepped up. Joel kept Elias Rendon in mind, as a definite threat.

District 10 seemed to be another pair of cowboys. They didn't seem malnourished, as usual, but they didn't seem overly threatening either. Joel stored the names Boss Dalton and Brittany Montx in the back of his mind, and waited for the next district to come along.

The District 11 tributes, Aria Rosenthall and Grave Red Pettingel, both smiled very nicely, but Joel could tell that they definitely were nervous. _Not a problem_, he thought to himself, grinning. Joel knew they were probably very nice people, with very nice families, but Joel, frankly, only really cared about his own family. If Joel let himself die, his family would be devastated. And since Joel only knew his own family personally, he knew that he had to win for them. The prosperity the District had had for the past year due to Haymitch's victory also gave incentive for Joel to win. He was resolute. He wasn't only winning for himself and his family; he was also winning for the good of his people.

As soon as the District 11 reaping ended, Joel stood up, stretched casually, threw a smile at Eve, his district partner, grabbed a plateful of heavy Capitol treats, and left the room. He knew about those District 12 tributes – the boy was one to watch. Joel Crosby was definitely a threat.

_A/N: I hope you see what I'm doing here with the POV's. It's in a (somewhat) chronological order, and I'm trying to get every tribute their on POV at least once before the start of the Games. This update has a long passage in Joel's POV, but I don't think it's unfairly balanced to him, since everyone gets their tribute mentioned in his POV. I hope you enjoyed! And thank you, everyone, for your lovely reviews; they've really kept me motivated (and I'm also a fast updater, so this chapter was really churned out in no time!). Keep reading, and keep reviewing, please! Look out for the next update in a few days c:_


	4. The End of the Line

**District 1 female, Jade Murdoch:**

Clarity Kay was described as "devilishly handsome" by the announcer of the 46th Hunger Games, and "ridiculously devastating" by the escort of District 1, Opalesce Tiffany. And currently, he was sitting in front of Jade Murdoch, arm slung over the back of the plush loveseat he had made his.

"So, darlin', I was thinking," he drawled. "For you, we should do sexy. You know? But you're not blond, like all the other girls. Heh, I like you brunettes, though. What we need to do is seductive, sexy, but sophisticated. High class. Those curls of yours are real nice."

Jade barked a laugh. "I love how original you're being with this, _Claire_."

Jasper looked over at his sister, and smirked. He knew Jade would never go for that angle. Clarity was lucky his head was still on his neck, and not ripped off, in the opposite corner of the room from where his body lay.

Clarity frowned, clearly upset with Jade's new nickname for him. "Well, if you aren't going ta take my advice, then you'd be better off with Sheen."

The blond, female mentor for District 1 named sat nearby, legs crossed. She was barely older than Jade, and didn't seem to have much going for her other than her breasts. Jade grimaced slightly, but knew she needed her mentor for sponsors.

"What are you good at, girl?" the mentor asked Jade.

Jade smirked, confident again. "Oh, you know – just about everything. But I'm _incredible_ at knife throwing and archery. Good eye, good speed, great accuracy, great amounts of strength, intelligence, attractiveness – I've got pretty much everything going for me, don't I?"

**District 2 male, Hayden Levy:**

"I think it's pretty clear you'll be the cold, bloodthirsty one in this Games, don't you agree?"

Hayden had no idea why he was paired with the female mentor for District 2, but he didn't complain. Lyme was over six feet tall and incredibly muscular, and Hayden supposed she picked him because their body types were much similar than Lyme's and Acelynn's, his district partner's, were. Acelynn and Geode had left to talk in private in the dining area, leaving Lyme and Hayden with the more comfortable seating arrangement.

"I mean, I suppose Acelynn may very well be cold and ruthless as well, but being so short and such a non-typical district 2 Career, we really can't expect her to play the perfect role of killing machine. She could be stealthy and cunning, or whatever Geode decides to have her be, but I think you'd be best as the unstoppable killing machine here," Lyme continued.

Hayden grunted his approval, giving Lyme a curt nod.

She began going over the procedure of the Hunger Games, starting with the Remake Center. Hayden tuned out the woman, already having learned this information at the Academy. He still hadn't changed out of his Reaping outfit, much to the dismay of the district escort, and he sat in a pair of black jeans, and a sky blue shirt. Hayden tugged out the sleeves, rolling them up from where they'd slipped down during dinner. Knowing Lyme would probably talk for a while, Hayden grabbed a cup of ice-cold water and settled himself for a long wait.

Glancing over at his mentor, Hayden suddenly realized that Lyme's eyes were the exact shade of hazel that he was so familiar with. With that, Hayden was suddenly snapped back in time to that day, two months before the Reaping.

Aurora and Hayden had been going steady for almost three years. Before Aurora, Hayden had not been on the track to being the District 2 male tribute at the age of eighteen, as he could not control his temper. But the first day Hayden and Aurora became training partners, matched up by the head of the Academy, Hayden began changing. As they grew closer, Hayden realized what he felt for her wasn't the usual annoyance he felt at others. There had been more than just irritation between them.

Aurora helped keep his anger in control. Hayden soon found himself excelling in the Academy, able to concentrate on honing his abilities rather than constantly getting into fights over petty discords. It wasn't until Hayden could almost taste the life he always dreamed of, that Hayden finally snapped again. He'd always been an outcast, but mostly, people just ignored him, and Hayden was fine with that. But that day, two months before the reaping, Hayden's most persistent tormentor, Luke Shale, had taken Hayden too far. Aurora was Hayden's and everyone knew that. Aurora had always been Hayden's.

Luke, that day, decided it would be funny to try to take Aurora home with him for the night. He wouldn't stop badgering her, showing up at every station she frequented, sitting across from her at the lunch table, and hanging around her even when she tried to use the restroom. Aurora didn't complain, but then again, she never did. Always in a good mood, the peppy blonde captured Hayden's heart by being so optimistic all the time. However, Hayden watched every move Luke made. For the first few hours of the day, Hayden could withstand the winks and the smiles Luke threw at Hayden's girl, but as the day wore on, and Luke showed no signs of stopping, Hayden really couldn't take it anymore.

The Track was the only bit of the Academy left unpadded, because padding was not conducive to helping future tributes reach their potential. Luke had been showing off to Aurora, who was nearby, trying, but failing, to concentrate on shooting arrows at the target. She usually only hit the bull's-eye, but that day, she's only hit it twice out of the ten shots she'd taken. Hayden strode over, and Aurora, seeing the two men approaching each other, had screamed for them to stop. Neither of them heard her.

All it took was one shove, and Luke tripped over a quiver left behind by some younger Academy student. He hadn't fallen far, but the force with which Hayden pushed and the angle that Luke landed at caused the boy's neck to snap. And looking into Aurora's beautiful, hazel eyes, Hayden knew he had made an even worse mistake than he could imagine.

Apparently, the crisp, clean sound of bone cracking constantly resonating through Hayden's mind wasn't punishment enough. Hayden was forced to recall the terror in Aurora's gaze as he recognized that exact shade of hazel. The terror in her eyes that told him she thought he was a monster.

"Hayden!" Lyme snapped. "Are you listening to a word I say?"

Lyme's voice shattered Hayden's trance, hurtling him back into the present. Hayden snapped upright, blinking the daze away.

"We're done," he growled, slamming his cup on the table.

**District 3 male, Lindon Yulong:**

Lindon woke up clutching his stomach and groaning. Though his bed was the most comfortable thing he had ever touched, he couldn't stay asleep. He had stuffed himself to bursting last night on tender, shredded meat and flaky, buttery rolls and cheese encrusted crispy fish and succulent rosemary lamb and crunchy, sweet rolled noodles and creamy, honeyed strawberry sponge cake. Flinging his arm onto his nightstand, Lindon squinted to try to see the clock. He felt around for his glasses, and when he found them, he slipped them onto his face. The world came into focus.

It was 6:30 am, which was good enough for Lindon. He slipped out of bed, hitting the floor with a soft thump. Padding back into the dining area, Lindon reached up and grabbed a glass, filling it with ice. A middle-aged servant in a knee length skirt silently appeared, and took the glass from his hands. Surprised, Lindon stepped back. His mouth formed a perfect red circle. The servant bowed at Lindon, and gestured at the glass questioningly.

"Um," Lindon whispered, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, and tried again. "Um. I was just getting a glass of juiced oranges."

The orange juice was what Lindon had liked best from the night before. He'd only seen oranges before from afar, in the homes of the richer factory owners in District 3 who sometimes invited Lindon's family over for fancy dinner parties, which were actually just ways for the wealthier families to show off. The orange juice was perfectly sugary while also being tangy, full of flavors that burst on Lindon's tongue.

The servant smiled at the boy's vernacular. She spun away with the glass, leaving Lindon confused and alone. Less than a minute, she'd returned, with a full glass in her hands.

"Thank you," Lindon said, grateful, yet still confused.

He looked at the servant, who was only a few inches taller than him, taking her in for the first time. She had wavy, auburn hair, and chocolate brown eyes. She smiled at the boy, and cupped his face in her palm. Lindon stumbled forward. "Ma?" he whispered. But he knew it wasn't her. His mother was still back in District 3, safe at home, with his father, his aunt and uncle, and Intelle. The servant shook her head sadly, and smiled again.

"Why won't you speak?" Lindon asked, louder this time.

The servant shook her head again.

"You won't tell me?" Lindon guessed, speaking normally.

"She's an avox." Vera Moda, the escort, swept into the room in a cloud of perfume. "She can't tell you."

The servant looked down, the lines etched in her face deepening.

"You don't know what avoxes are!" Vera Moda shrieked. "That's precious! Avoxes have done horrible crimes against the public, and the Capitol's taken away their right to talk by carving out their tongues and silencing them, because of how horrible they've been."

Lindon clammed up again, and sat down quickly on an intricately carved wooden chair by the breakfast table. He stared down into his drink, and by the time he snuck a peek back up again, the "avox" was gone, and Vera Moda was sitting in front of him with a predatory smile on her face.

**District 9 female, Camryn "Cami" Parrish:**

Though it was her second day on the train, Cami still couldn't get over how grand her surroundings were. The first one at the breakfast table, Cami took a piling plateful of food before looking around. Posh was an understatement for the room. There were items imported from each district to make the train as grandiose as possible – furs and velvets from District 1, a table carved from a single slab of stone from District 2, machinery serving all kinds of drinks and cooling all the food from District 3, salmon with creamed cheese in her finger sandwiches from District 4, wires for all the machinery in District 5, the train itself from District 6, chairs and woodwork from District 7, all these beautiful cloths, clothes, textiles, and rugs from District 8, the soft, savory roles from District 9, simmering pork and beef from District 10, a casual bowl of the most precious and exotic fruit in the center of the table from District 11, and coal powering the train from District 12.

She laughed bitterly. Of course the _Capitol_ would force all the Districts to collaborate in sending twenty three of their children to their deaths, pretending it was all the Districts' fault that they were sending their children to die. This was how the Capitol turned the Districts on each other, wasn't it? This was what the Capitol did to its citizens. This was what the Capitol did to Cami's father, and now she'd never see him again.

Cami looked back at her plate. The huge ration of meat suddenly sickened her, as did the flat breakfast cakes smothered in syrup. However, she knew that to make her father proud and make it home, she had to eat to get her weight up so she could afford to lose it in the arena. Determined, she dug in.

**District 11 male, Grave Red Pettingel:**

When Marcue Thalius, the District 11 escort, finally burst into Grave Red's room the second day of the train ride, it was already almost noontime. As the older man entered Grave's room, Grave immediately sat up in bed. Grave was used to having people barge into his sleeping area in the mornings, as he slept in the living room, being part of a large family, but Marcue gave off an unnatural, cloyingly sweet scent.

"Wake up, sweetheart, rise and shine," Marcue deadpanned, throwing open the curtains to Grave's room.

What was outside his window gave Grave quite a shock. District 11 was flat, open space for days on end, but the Capitol was the complete opposite. High-rise, reflective buildings and floating hubs cluttered the air. The roads were full of vehicles darting to and fro, and more people dressed just like Marcue.

Grave rubbed his eyes, red and puffy from the night before.

"What, never seen skyscrapers before?" Marcue laughed as if he'd made the funniest joke ever.

Grave had never actually seen skyscrapers before, but he decided to milk this moment for what it was worth. "Good one," he laughed. "But actually, the Capitol is beautiful. I've never seen anything like it."

"And your outfit," Grave continued, "Wonderful. Is that real snakeskin? You must tell me where you got them. I'd love to have a pair, too."

Marcue grinned, and strutted back to the door. "Stop flirting and let's go, hotshot," the escort responded, but he was clearly flattered.

Grave tumbled out of bed and slipped on the first clothes he grabbed, before following Marcue outside. Marcue continued talking. "Wait until you see the city center. It's even better than these outskirts. You know what? I think you'll really enjoy what's going to happen. It's called the Remake center, where you'll get all fixed up and ready to go for tonight's Chariot rides – a parade where you'll be shown off to all those peasants in their inferior garb…"

Marcue trailed off, leaving Grave confused. Grave took this time to look down at his outfit, which was an orange plaid t-shirt and a forest green pair of pants over a pair of red moccasins. It was a strange combination, but the quality of the clothing made it actually look decent.

"Of course, there will be richer Capitolians there, too. And those are the ones you have to look for. Make sure to wave, and smile, and blow kisses; they love when you blow kisses. You're a charming guy! Be charming at them, and they'll reward you by sponsoring you in the arena."

Grave had knew all this already, and what he really wanted to know was how to distinguish "superior" from "inferior" garb so that he could tell which Capitolians could sponsor him, but he decided to let Marcue continue. Even if Grave couldn't distinguish, he could wave and smile all the way, and would let Marcue do the distinguishing and sponsor harvesting.

The train suddenly slowed down considerably, but did not stop. "We're actually in the city, now," Marcue explained. "They don't want anyone martyring themselves and smearing the city with their blood, so they slow the train down to make sure no accidents happen. Why don't you go into the dining room? You must be famished!"

Grave agreed enthusiastically and headed away from Marcue to sit down for lunch.

In the dining area, Grave grabbed a few chewy, sweet rolls and smeared strawberry jam over them. The meal last night had stretched out his shrunken stomach, and left him starving that morning. Shoving them into his mouth, he heaped his plate with sausages and breaded, crumbly fishcakes before sitting down to polish it off, followed by a glass of bubbly, carbonated barley juice sweetened with pear. As he wiped his face, contented and bloated, he felt the train begin to come to a standstill.

Marcue sauntered in with a flourish. "And we're here!"

_A/N: This chapter's a bit shorter, and a bit unbalanced with the POV's, but I hope you don't mind! So this was the train ride, and next will be the Remake Center and the Chariot ride. After that, we've got the training center, the scorings, the interviews, and then we're at the Games! So the Bloodbath should be in about five chapters or so - how exciting c: Also, this story is now over 10k words, which is super exciting - I don't think I've ever written something this long before; I'm usually so fickle. Again, thank you all for your reviews, and please please PLEASE keep reviewing; reviews make this author very, very happy and very, very motivated to write more. Have a lovely day, everyone!_


	5. Ready for the Judgment Day

**District 1 male, Jasper Murdoch:**

Jasper was lying on a cold table, stark naked. He had an inkling of a feeling that he didn't necessarily _have_ to be naked at that point in time, but who was he to argue with his prep team? Besides, it wasn't as if he completely minded being stripped naked. After all, he did look good. He had to admit that his muscles shone nicely even under the harsh glare of the examination table's light. Zeus, Persephone, and Aphrodite all crowded around him, cooing over his body. Apparently, his prep team had renamed themselves to have more matching names, when they'd first gotten assigned to each other.

Zeus positioned himself behind Jasper, and began stroking Jasper's honey-brown hair tenderly. "Your hair," he purred, leaning forward to sniff the tribute, "is so soft, so luscious, so _marvelous_."

Jasper grinned. He knew all of this already. He leaned back further in his seat, lounging to make himself comfortable. "What product do you use?" Zeus demanded. "I must know."

Jasper shook his head. "I don't use anything in my hair. It's just naturally that way."

Zeus let out a low of disappointment and frustration. "You District 1 tributes! It must be in the water."

In fact, Jasper did use an array of products in his hair. There was the honey/lemon essence that made his hair softer and tinted lighter than his sister's, the olive oil extract to make his hair stronger and moisturized, and the egg yolk avocado coconut shampoo that made his hair shiny and buoyant – but he wasn't about to tell any random stylist that. Then, the stylist might actually spread that Jasper, the District 1 male tribute, had to work hard to maintain his looks, and Jasper couldn't have that happened.

"We almost don't have to do anything at all with this hair of yours," Zeus continued. "It's almost perfect."

"This is why we love working with District 1!" Aphrodite piped up.

Jasper rolled his eyes. Almost perfect? That's where Zeus was wrong. His hair was absolutely perfect. Persephone fluttered around Jasper's legs, brush and hot wax ready. Jasper braced himself, and winced slightly when he felt the pain. It didn't bother him too much, as he'd done it plenty before back in District 1. Aphrodite lauded Jasper on how beautiful his hands were, and Jasper smirked at the woman, winking at her. "I almost don't want to paint your nails," Aphrodite oozed, "because they're just so beautiful."

Jasper furrowed his brow. "Paint my nails? What kind of a _girl_ do you think I am?"

"Oh!" Aphrodite squawked, as Jasper withdrew his hand from her sweaty grip. She tried to reclaim the hand, but Jasper held it away from her.

"It isn't out choice," Persephone sighed. "It's what your stylist ultimately has as his plan for you. The outfit comes together in the end, and it is absolutely essential that we follow his plans so that everything works out. Do you understand?"

Jasper sighed, and nodded, giving his hand back to Aphrodite. She immediately started stroking it again. Persephone tore off another strip of wax from his inner thighs. Jasper winced.

Laying back to let his prep team finish, the District 1 male tribute wondered what his sister was up to.

**District 1 female, Jade Murdoch:**

When Jade first signed up to work at the mines, everyone had been skeptical. Her parents had only let her sign up because they didn't believe she could have lasted for very long in the mines. Her boss couldn't refuse her a position, because of the wealth her parents had, but he didn't think she would stay true to her offer, because she didn't have to work in the mines. Her team in the mines had thought of her as a weak, pretty girl from the rich sectors of the town who had only wanted to fulfill her little fantasy of working in the mines.

A week passed, and Jade's parents were surprised that she still worked in the mines for four hours a day after training in the Academy. A month passed, and her boss was surprised at her consistency in coming to work on time daily. Half a year passed, and her team began to slowly appreciate that she did do some work in the mines, and accept her into their ranks.

To Jade, working in the mines was more glamorous and more fun than minx and fox furs, and attending parties with sparkly champagne and dizzying lights. The steady swing of the pick and the hit of the point into the rock as it vibrated up her arm in her bones, the joy of repetitive, hard, labor, the moment of excitement when she hit a payload of gems, precious or semi-precious alike, that was what Jade lived for.

However, the regular miners of course had a difficult time accepting her. While they worked hard all day to feed their families and to scrape by, Jade came into the mines because she liked the sparkly gems, and because she had enough to eat daily to sustain her through the hard labor. The miners were stuck for life, but Jade could pull out whenever she wanted to. The miners could not take "sick days" or days off just for their anniversaries, or even for the birth of their own children, but Jade could choose not to come in to work any time she wanted to. However, after a few months, and Jade proved herself useful and the miners did enjoy slightly more slack when Jade was around compared to when she wasn't around, so in the end, she was a welcome addition to the team.

But regular hard labor had apparently ruined her nails.

Jade sighed exasperatedly and pressed her lips together, sitting up from the table. "It's not that my nails themselves are bad," she tried to explain, "I've just never cared for them."

Laertes, the man holding her hand, gasped and said dramatically in his baritone, "Neglect. That's the true killer of these nails."

Jade gave up. She smiled tenderly at Laertes. "No, of course, you know best, Laertes. Of course you do, or how would you have become a stylist for District 1, the best district, for the Hunger Games?"

Laertes fluttered his eyelashes. "Oh, I'm hardly a stylist. I'm only part of his prep team! But you. What a wonderful beauty. Now, let's get to work on these hands."

Jade sank into the plush cushion she had asked for earlier. The table was far too cold for her skin. As Laertes rubbed moisturizer into her cuticles, Jade closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the treatment. It was, after all, almost like being in a spa, and Jade wouldn't be able to have access to one of those for at least another three weeks.

Jade peeked through her eyelashes at Laertes, and threw him a smile. He winked in return, and Jade knew she'd just roped herself another sponsor for these Hunger Games.

**District 3 female, Bo Burgham:**

Bo felt as if she had been scrubbed and peeled raw with all the treatments she had received that morning. She had finally quelled the fear that had been rising in her ever since she'd been reaped. Now all she felt was nausea at the amount of glitter and chemical that covered her body.

Her prep team stood in a corner gossiping about last night's big party and about who got drunk and left with whom. Bo was left alone.

Suddenly, the door slammed open as a commanding woman strode in on nine-inch platforms. "Let's see what we have to work with!" Her voice was rich, velvety smooth, and it reminded Bo of the sweet, creamy drink she had last night called "eggnog".

The first thing the stylist remarked on when she saw Bo was Bo's face. "Oh dear," Blythe, the stylist, lamented, "Your nose. It's quite large, isn't it?"

Bo reflexively touched her nose. Forcing her hands to her side, Bo looked at her stylist straight in the eyes, unblinking. This didn't faze the stylist. Blythe continued. "And your lips, far too thin, I don't know what your prep team did there. Who in their right minds would pair you up with _that_ color? Wrong, wrong, all wrong!"

The prep team, which had stopped gossiping among themselves when Blythe entered, was now skittering around, grabbing tools and make up brushes, arming themselves for a battle.

Bo stood as tall as she could, back straight, staring straight ahead. "I said mauve," Blythe snapped at the prep team, "Not thistle."

The smallest girl in Bo's prep team stammered, "Th-this is mauve, Mistress Blythe."

Blythe turned around slowly, a saccharine smile spreading on her face. "I don't think so, Rollo," she said, lightly.

Rollo's eyes widened, and she quickly turned away to find the exact shade of purple the stylist wanted. Bo stood her place, unmoving, as Blythe circled the girl, towering a good foot and a half over her. "I've had an idea of how to dress you ever since I was assigned to District 3 last year. Now all we have to do is fit you into my dress…" Blythe trailed off, squeezing Bo's shoulders, then waist, then measuring the girl's neck with her fingers. Bo flinched, but did not move away.

"Yes, yes, that should be fine," Blythe muttered to herself. Snapping her fingers, Blythe turned to the prep team, and ordered them to grab the costume. Santos, the make-up artist, stayed behind to finish up Blythe's face.

The prep team hurried back wheeling a covered outfit. The size of the monstrosity made Bo slightly nervous, but Bo kept her face impassive. "Close your eyes," Blythe demanded. "You don't get to see yourself until we're completely done."

Bo closed her eyes, as ordered. She felt someone lift her arms up and a chiffon dress being slipped over her head. A couple of wires poked her skin uncomfortably, and Bo was suddenly hit with anxiety at how she would look at the parade. The dress settled around her, and it felt tight around her waist, but it seemed to flare out above her breasts. She couldn't feel anything below her waist, which worried her greatly. Had her stylist made her nude from the hips down? She felt cold dots of liquid being applied on her legs and arms, and chest. Something was being stuck onto her bare skin.

And then, they were done. Blythe guided Bo to a mirror, and told the girl to open her eyes. Bo obliged, and when as she saw her reflection, gasped.

**District 5 male, Eli Asher:**

Eli felt more than kind of ridiculous in his stiff, uncomfortable suit, but he was happy that Jocileia didn't look too much better. His stylist had thought it would be an incredible idea to be original that year, and had turned him into a giant, walking solar panel. He wore an overlarge gray anorak-type jacket covered in shiny black reflective panels and loose gray sweatpants covered in the same material. His face was framed with a large square of solar paneling behind his head.

Eli clunked out of the room awkwardly, exceedingly aware of the commotion he made. In the hall between the Chariot room and the prep room, Jocileia and her prep team and stylist were waiting for Eli and his team. Eli smiled shyly at Jocileia, who waved animatedly back. Eli was relieved to see that Jocileia looked almost as ridiculous as he did, in an all-white jumpsuit with a headdress that was supposed to resemble the blades of a windmill fan.

"They move when the wind blows, my stylist says," Jocileia smiled genially at the boy, seeing him staring at her headdress. Eli felt bad for being glad that this friendly girl had been stuck with an outfit that was less than brilliant, but he really was worried that his outfit would make him the laughingstock of the Games.

Jocileia took Eli's hand, and tugged him forward. "Let's go," she urged the boy. "We should get there early, to check out all the other tributes in person."

Eli's heart pounded, speeding up to almost twice its normal rate, and he hoped Jocileia couldn't feel his palms growing sweaty. He felt his legs shaking, and hoped they wouldn't give out under him.

He swallowed, and stepped towards the door down the hall with Jocileia next to him. "Thanks," he said softly. They reached the door, and Eli grabbed the handle, eyes closed. He turned the handle, and pushed the door open.

**District 6 male, Phoenix Wilder:**

Phoenix adored his chariot outfit. He couldn't stop looking at himself, and wondered at how his costume made him move so fast, so fast that he almost couldn't see himself. This was a superpower Phoenix had always wanted for himself, but had never been able to quite achieve. Undoubtedly, if he'd continued practicing, he would probably be able to get quite close, and perhaps finally master this superpower, but he had not gotten there yet. The fastest he'd clocked in was a six-minute mile, which, while fast by human standards, was not good enough for the Red Flight.

His stylist, Woolsey, had explained to the prep team, who had hung on to Woolsey's every word as if it were a new cosmetic alteration, how he had used thousands of tiny mirrors to refract the light in such a way that it blurred Phoenix's body, making it seem as if Phoenix were going faster than he actually was. He then told Phoenix about how he'd planned out this outfit since Phoenix's speech at the Reaping, which he told to the prep team was "adorable" and would "definitely grab our Phoenix sponsors".

However, Phoenix knew that Woolsey was only saying that for the benefit of the normals, who would never be able to have the powers Phoenix had. When Phoenix had finally announced that he was actually the Red Flight after he'd been reaped, he saw the look of shock mixed with disgust on the faces of the people of District 6. Phoenix knew it wasn't because they hated the Red Flight – when he'd stolen from the outrageously rich and left the goods in the drawers of the needy, he would always stay behind to watch the surprise in the faces of those he helped.

Of course, when the Peacekeepers, the head of whom was his father, found the stolen goods in the houses of the poor, it was the poor that were punished, but surely the people of District 6 knew that the Red Flight had only been trying to help. As the son of the Head Peacekeeper, Phoenix was even forced sometimes to watch and partake in these punishments, which ranged from public whippings, to jail time, to public executions. Phoenix partook only because he wanted his father to be proud, and happy, as Phoenix saw what had happened when his father had fallen into a spiral of depression after Phoenix's mother had died.

The Capitol would pay for its sins against the people. But first, Phoenix had to win their hearts so that he could rip them up in front of those pigs' faces.

**District 7 female and male, Brooke Corebell and David Von Cleavan:**

David thought Brooke looked fierce and beautiful.

The stylists for District 7, after seeing the young lovers, had decided to play up their story by having them match. They both wore camouflage battle armor painted with leaves, but fake tongues of flames painted onto the bottom of their outfits evoked the fiery love that the two shared. They also had axes clipped onto their belts, which didn't really match the rest of the outfit, but the stylists had apparently wanted incorporate weapons, because they'd thought that would be a good idea.

Brooke had actually been truly furious at David for volunteering, when they both knew only one could come out of the Hunger Games alive, but she couldn't stay mad at him very long, as neither of them had any idea how much longer they would have together. Brooke had refused to talk to David until they'd watched the Reaping in the train, when she'd seen the look of horror on David's face as she was reaped. Her stomach had caved, and she'd immediately gone to sit next to him and put her arm around him.

Brooke and David now stood side by side, as close as possible without touching. David had tried to rest his arm around Brooke's waist, but she'd pulled away, scolding him for making them look weak and reliant on each other around tributes who would kill at the first sign of weakness. She didn't mean any harm by this, and gave him a kiss on the cheek for trying.

"Allies?" David whispered to Brooke.

Brooke knew exactly what he meant. He didn't mean he wanted to ally with her, because they were clearly going to be allies in the Games. "The Careers won't want to ally with us, and besides, I don't trust them," Brooke whispered back. "The District 3 boy is out; he's too weak."

Looking at Bo, Brooke continued." The District 3 girl scares me a little. She's completely unemotional, and she hasn't really changed her facial expressions much since we've first seen her."

Brooke watched Eli and Jocileia walk in through the doors from their prep room to the Chariot room. "The District 5 girl doesn't seem very intelligent. She's tall, which would be useful, but seems rather bubble-brained. The boy is so small. He'd be a definite burden."

Not even taking a breath, Brooke persisted in her analyses. "The District 6 girl seems very, very nice. Of course, that isn't helpful at all for the Games. She's not well built at all, so that crosses her out. The superhero kid, he's totally off his rocker. Just look at him running around the room excited like he's about to go to a Carnival or something. We should probably stay on his good side though, just so he doesn't snap in the arena and rip out our hearts with his bare hands or something."

David laughed, and held up his hands. "Whoa, there, Brooke. You don't need to be so harsh."

Brooke blinked at David, broken out of her contemplation. "You were the one who asked," she nudged him lightly in the ribs. David slung his arm around Brooke's shoulder, and this time, she didn't move away. Resting her head lightly on her boyfriend's shoulder, making sure to not mess up her hair too much and invoke the wrath of her stylist, Brooke returned to watching the other tributes prance.

**District 9 female, Camryn "Cami" Parrish:**

Cami's heart tugged a little as she saw the lovebirds in the corner. She'd never had parents who loved each other, and the Districts did everything to discourage romance. Cami tried to be as reasonable as possible all the time, but this was something completely excessive. Love during the Hunger Games was ridiculous, senseless. Brooke and David made Cami oversentimental, though she knew it was absurd.

Elias, her district partner, had thankfully been standing next to Cami the entire time. Though Cami was outgoing, it made her nervous to be as talkative as she was. She constantly wondered what others thought of her, and she knew that the other tributes must be judging her now. Elias's presence was comforting, even though he didn't speak, and didn't even seem to be paying much attention to her.

Their stylists had dressed them in bright blue – the bright blue that the Capitol apparently thought was the color of the sky. On the blue, body-hugging gown Cami wore, threads of gold that sparkled and shone in the light shot up the train of the skirt into the waist, educing growing grain. Elias matched her, but in blue dress pants with gold up the sides and a loose, gray shirt with strands of light silver, evoking the rain.

Cami self-consciously hugged her thin frame, knowing she wasn't nearly as curvy as the girl from District 1, or even as the girl from District 12. She reached up to push her dark brown forelock from the side of her face instinctively, but found that it was not there. She remembered that her stylist had teased her hair into an elegant bun up on the top of her head, and quickly brought her hand back down again.

A young woman with a headset clopped over and guided the two to a grain-patterned golden chariot, before going over to the district 10 tributes. Elias silently offered a hand to Cami, who took it gratefully. She stepped into the chariot, pulling up her skirt so it wouldn't sweep the floor or constrict her knees. Cami reached down, and helped Elias up next her.

Cami stood propped on one leg, resting her hands on the railing, as the chariot began rolling towards the double doors into the night. Only she could see the white of her knuckles as she gripped the railing with all her strength, heart fluttering, and that was just the way she liked it.

**District 12 female, Evangeline Chauncer:**

The colorful Capitol audience clapped politely as Eve and Joel rolled by. The giant screen in the town center showed the pair in their miner garb briefly before turning back to the flashier districts.

The District 3 girl waved stiffly at the camera, her awkwardness balanced by her incredible outfit. Purple fiber optic wires orbited a sculpted dress that hugged her waist and flared out at the chest and the hips. The District 6 superhero got lots of love from the Capitol, who loved his extravagance. The superhero didn't seem to love the audience as much as he loved his outfit, but the audience caught up on his enthusiasm.

The screen spent the most time on the Careers. The cameras loved the Luxury District, who kissed at the screen and waved, holding hands as a family of gods and goddesses. The girls swooned at the Fishing District's King of the Sea and the boys screamed at the beautiful pearl emerging from the oyster of the chariot. The adults cheered for the dangerous District Two stony assassins, who stood deadly in their blood-red chariot, stony silent.

Eve pulled up at her large black pants, uncomfortable with how low they hung, even with suspenders holding them up. She didn't like how her midriff showed so much, preferring far more conservative clothes than what she had on currently. Her face itched, but she didn't want to smudge the black make-up caked on her face and make it look worse. Eve just wanted this night to be over.

She glanced over at Joel, who stood stonily by her. She'd asked earlier if he'd wanted to be allies, but he made it clear that he thought she would just slow him down. Eve was resentful of the fact that he didn't even give her a chance, but decided she could have other allies besides her district partner. Eve had her eyes on the District 8 couple – if they felt so strongly about each other, they must have feelings. That would mean Eve might also be able to worm her way into their hearts.

The chariot rocked as they reached the City Circle and it came to a halt. President Snow was talking, but Eve didn't listen. She'd heard the speech enough, and she didn't really care much for the President. Eve looked out at the colorful crowd, and felt herself getting slightly dizzy from all the noise and the excitement. She was thankful when her chariot finally started up again.

As soon as her chariot reached the Training Center, Eve jumped off her chariot, and headed hurriedly to the elevators, trying to beat the crowd of tributes milling around, considering each others' worth. All she wanted was a hot dinner, a long shower, and a good night's sleep before she had to go train the next morning. Thankfully, Eve made it to the elevator without much trouble, and slipped in just as the doors closed behind her.

She looked up to see the two from District 7, kissing each other at the first moment of privacy they'd had in a while. As Eve stepped into the elevator, the two pulled apart. The girl, who Eve knew to be Brooke, bit her lip and blushed, looking away. The boy, David, smiled charmingly at Eve. Eve fluttered her eyelashes back, and smiled widely. She could tell they were going to be friends.

_A/N: It's been a while since the last update, but still not very long c: Anyways, I got my wisdom teeth taken out this morning (thankfully, I only had two, so it's not as painful as it could be) so I'll actually be stuck at home, and I'll probably update faster because I have nothing better to do than sit in bed writing... I can't even eat to alleviate boredom :c Again, thank you all for all of your reviews - they keep me going. I'm like an author car that runs on reviews and yeah this metaphor went nowhere just ignore it. So, read and review, please! If you'd like, you can also advertise my story around the site, I wouldn't really mind that, either... So, enjoy! And I'll try to update again as soon as possible._

_And is anyone as excited as I am about this new reality TV show, Capture? It's supposed to be a "milder version of the Hunger Games" - I want nothing more than to be in those Games! Ahh the first episode comes out tonight and you guys have _no idea_ how excited I am for it~_


	6. Do As We're Told

**District 2 female, Acelynn Grey:**

Acelynn was up at the crack of dawn. Today was the day that would make or break her Games. She quickly changed out of her sleepwear and into the black and red shirt made of flexible, breathable material and the fitted mesh shorts that her stylist had made for her to reflect her Chariot outfit. No one was to forget that Acelynn was the assassin of the Games.

The room Acelynn was given on the second floor of the training center was larger than the room she'd had on the train, which was the size of her room back home. But to Acelynn, the size of the room didn't matter. She could tell that the rooms, though vastly different, were actually the same – they both followed the same "trends" that were popular at the time in the Capitol. She'd even seen these trends last night, in the clothes, hair and on the skin of the Capitolites who had come to see the tribute parade. As crazy as their clothes seemed, they were all boring, really. Predictable. Acelynn hated predictable, but she knew that other people's predictability gave her the advantage when dealing with people.

Standing in front of the mirror, Acelynn looked herself up and down. She smiled, approving of the look. The shirt molded to her muscles, making her seem dangerous, even in the compact package she came in. Acelynn flattened the gold "District 2" badge against her chest, and headed to the dining commons.

Acelynn had long finished stuffing a roll smothered creamy cheese and topped with fat slices juicy fish, washed down with a fresh glass of passion fruit juice, before Hayden padded in, much more silently than his giant frame should have allowed. He sat down next to the girl, and gave her a cursory nod. Acelynn had known since the beginning of her training that she'd be part of the Career pack of Districts 1, 2, and 4, along with her district partner, but seeing the lack of attention Hayden paid to her, Acelynn was suddenly gripped with fear. What would happen to her if her district partner didn't want to be in an alliance? The District 1 pair was brother and sister, and would undoubtedly stick together. And if Acelynn were stuck with the pair from District 4, she wouldn't be able to sleep at night. Of course the two would want their own district to win, and Acelynn would be wrong to trust them, no matter how nice they seemed.

Hayden spread peach jam on a pastry, unaware of his partner as she struggled with her difficulties next to him. True, Acelynn never really worked with other people, and could provide for herself. It wasn't that she'd wanted to be independent all her life, but the lack of a nurturing figure in her life forced her fate.

Acelynn remembered the exact day that her mother fell victim to a ghastly car accident. Only the mayor had had a car in District 2, but being the mayor's advisor, Acelynn's father had the chance to ride the car with the mayor's family every once in a while. The first time he'd brought along his wife, Acelynn's mother, there had been a tragic accident. Aside from a few scratches, no one had been hurt but Acelynn's mother, who had been thrown through a window.

To Acelynn, this was all hearsay, of course, as the four-year-old girl had been at home with her grandmother at the time of the accident. But what Acelynn did get to witness was the slow healing of her mother, Katie Grey, who never really got back the sparkling personality that captured dozens of suitors in her dating years. Katie could never after that separate reality from fantasy, unless watched carefully by a loved one. The loved one was hardly ever Acelynn's father, so the caretaking was left mostly to the little girl, who had to not only care for herself and her mother, but also act as head of the household, as Acelynn's father stayed as far away from his wife as possible, tremendously guilty that he'd let himself lose her like that.

But Acelynn had only ever watched Games where the Career pack stayed together, and had only ever planned for a Hunger Games where she had allies. So the girl turned to the hulking mass of muscle sitting a few feet away from her as he ladled whipped cream on a bowl of steaming hot honeyed grains. "Hayden?" she asked carefully, not having gathered enough information about her partner yet to know how to approach him the right way.

He turned to her, unblinking. Acelynn caught herself from flinching. "About the Career pack…" she trailed off, uncertain of how to continue. He _must_ know being in an alliance was the best way to go, and the only possible way to win and bring glory to their families and their District.

Hayden waited for the girl to continue.

"Have you seen any lower District tributes we might be interested in having join the Career alliance?" Acelynn chose the easy way out. If Hayden wanted to be in the Career alliance, he would give a straight answer, and not think twice about the question. If he didn't, he could simply tell her that there was no "we" as he wouldn't be part of the alliance.

Hayden nodded once. "The District 12 boy seems strong. He's taller than most, and though he's thin, he seems muscular, and capable enough. But we'll have to wait and see more of him in training today."

Hayden turned away again, and Acelynn breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She was safe, at least for now.

**District 6 female, Vera Trellor:**

Vera and Phoenix were the first down in the training center. Vera had wanted to show up even earlier, and would've had Phoenix not spent so long looking for that feather he always _had_ to have with him – something about it "being his identity" or another. Vera had thought at first that she and Phoenix could have teamed up together and been good allies, if he really _was_ the Red Flight, as he claimed to be. The district "superhero" had never really affected her or her family, as they were not part of the richest, or among the ranks of the poor, but Vera had heard of the doings of the Red Flight at school, and at the markets. Vera agreed with his morals, and thought that the Red Flight did very good things. Some of the people in District 6 were ridiculously rich, and really didn't deserve to have such good things. Other people, like her parents, worked so very hard, and didn't get as much as they should've gotten in return. They were then forced to arrange a marriage for their daughter, in this case Vera, to make sure their daughter could provide for herself after they were gone. It really wasn't fair.

Vera shook her head. She was letting her thoughts run astray again.

The trainers were still setting up the room downstairs, and some were only just arriving. Vera, hoping not to bother anyone, smiled anxiously at a nearby trainer who didn't seem to be doing anything in particular. "Can we start learning things?" she asked him.

The trainer turned to the girl, who stood almost his height. "District 6!" he barked. Vera blanched, and fell back a step.

Seeing this, the trainer softened. "District 6," he repeated. "It is not yet 0900. You were told to report by 1000. Do you not think you are ahead of schedule? We are not yet prepared for tributes."

Vera nodded quickly, and bowed. "I'm so sorry, sir, we only wanted a head start; we were so eager to learn."

The trainer almost cracked a smile. He held out a hand, and introduced himself. "I am Arkadios, the head trainer."

Vera's eyes widened. This man was important, and must have important things to do and tend to. "I'm so sorry for bothering you, sir," she apologized effusively. "Please go back to doing whatever you need to do."

The man chuckled, and shook his head. "Why don't you and your district partner sit right there, on that bench, until about 0930 or so? I will talk to the crowd when they are all here at around 0945, since everyone is usually early to training for at least the first day."

Vera nodded eagerly, and took Phoenix by the elbow, dragging him away. "Hey," he complained, but didn't put up much of a fight. As they sat down, Phoenix grumbled, "I told you we didn't have to come down so early. Look who was wrong again."

Vera rolled her eyes. Even if she agreed with the Red Flight's morals, she was beginning to doubt that this boy was actually a superhero. Vera liked stories of the Red Flight, and this boy was far too self-serving and obsessive for Vera to like him, so Phoenix must not be the Red Flight. Vera crossed her arms over her chest, and huffily sat back, leaning against the cold wall. She was hoping to be allies with someone, but it seemed like that someone wouldn't be her district partner.

**District 8 female, Heron Rayne Andalu:**

Arkadios had already gathered all the tributes in a circle around him when Heron came tumbling out of the elevator. Heron shoved her hands in her pocket, feeling the deck of cards, counting them one by one, and slipped into the back of the crowd, hoping not to be noticed. Patch had woken up and left without her, all because she'd rebuffed his advances the night before.

Heron hadn't been able to sleep, because of how terrified she'd been. She never could sleep very well in unfamiliar conditions – in this case, the cool silk sheets had thrown her off, making her less comfortable rather than more. Thinking that taking a brief walk around outside would make her more level-headed and tired, Heron went into the sitting room and ordered herself a steaming cup of sweet milk to help herself fall asleep. Hearing the click of the door open and close, Patch had followed the girl outside.

At first, Patch had been friendly enough, and Heron was glad of the company. She hadn't even minded when Patch put his arm amiably around her. But when Patch had asked if Heron wanted to warm his bed that night, Heron knew his intentions weren't pure, or even for the sake of having an ally in the Games. Heron stalked off huffily back to her room, but hadn't been able to fall asleep again until the noise of the crowds outside had almost started up again.

By the time Heron had finished counting her cards, she was calm again, and Arkadios had finished his spiel. Heron watched as the Careers stood together, as usual, discussing their plan. The District 4 girl looked nervous, and Heron assumed it was because she'd been reaped rather than a volunteer, but Heron knew the Careers were expected to be together every year, and the District 1 and 2 tributes seemed to be accepting her into the group rather well. The lovebirds from District 7 followed each other to the survival stations, where the District 12 girl was sitting, listening to a trainer talk about edible plants. The trio greeted each other, and Heron immediately grew wary of the friendliness of the exchange.

Everyone had more or less taken their places for the morning before Heron finally moved to the weapons rack. Once there, she took one of the larger axes of the rack, and almost dropped it on her foot.

A weapons trainer ran over to her side. "Whoa, whoa," he said, laughing. "Let's get you something more your size. How about this?"

He handed Heron a combat knife the length of her forearm. The edges were dulled, but Heron could tell that this sort of thing would be deadly in its original form. She blushed crimson as the trainer easily picked up the axe with one hand to place it back on the rack. "Alright," he grabbed a knife similar to hers, and held it in front of Heron. "This is how you hold a combat knife."

Heron only half paid attention, knowing three days was hardly enough time to learn a whole new weapon. She would spend more of these days seeing each and every one of the other tributes' weaknesses and strengths, and guess how she could gain an advantage over every one of them. Seeing Patch chatting it up with Camryn, the District 9 girl, over at the camouflage section of the training center, Heron rolled her eyes. Patch _would_ be the boy talking up any girl he could get his tendrils around.

The weapons trainer easily disarmed Heron for the third time in a row, and Heron went to retrieve her weapon again. The trainer patiently got into start position again, but Heron was distracted as Eli approached her station. Heron understood the need for the lower districts to head towards the station with the smaller weapons, as the District 1, 2, and 4 males monopolized the larger weapons, and the District 1 and 2 females had taken over the target practice station. Eli timidly stood to the side until the trainer got out of position to walk over to the boy. "Do you have anything for me?" Eli asked, voice cracking as if he were about to cry.

The weapons trainer smiled kindly. "Let's see what I can find." He stepped behind the public weapons display rack and rummaged through his entire arsenal for something that would fit Eli's stature. After a while, he came up with a small blowgun for the boy, and the boy shyly took it.

Heron didn't mind Eli stepping in and stealing her trainer, because it gave her more time to look around. The District 10 girl, Brittany, was talking with Jocileia, the District 5 girl, and while Jocileia seemed friendly enough, Heron could tell she was disinterested in an alliance with Brittany. The District 10 boy and the District 12 boy, Boss and Joel, were chatting at the weights section, in a friendly competition of who could lift more.

Patch was now wandering off, away from the camouflage station. It was clear that Camryn had rebuffed Patch's advances, but Patch, not discouraged, went to find more girls he could get his grip around. He approached the target station, where Jocileia, the District 5 girl was practicing with throwing knives. Brittany was still trying to make conversation, but the dialogue had clearly fizzled out, and Brittany was left standing awkwardly to the side as Jocileia tried to impress the Careers. Jocileia was good with the knives, and hit the target on most tries, even hitting the center every once in a while, but against Jade Murdoch, the District 1 Career, Jocileia looked absolutely hopeless. Jade casually flung blades rapid fire at the target from ten feet further than where Jocileia was standing. The Career always hit the target and a lot of the time even hit dead center. Heron saw Jocileia get more and more frustrated, before finally throwing down the knives and stalking off to another station, before Patch could even start a conversation with the girl.

Left with Brittany at a station neither of them wanted to practice at, Patch stood uncomfortably still for a few seconds before flashing one of his charming smiles at the girl, and sauntering off again. Brittany shook her head and left to go to the fire-building station.

Looking back at her station, Heron saw that Eli was getting along well with the trainer. He'd learned the basics of blowgun use, and was now turning red from the exertion of constantly running out of breath. The trainer patted Eli's back gently, and asked kindly if Eli didn't want to learn about shelter building for the rest of the morning.

The trainer then showed a couple more moves to Heron, who copied him half-heartedly. After a while, Heron thanked the man, and left for the camouflage section, which was only occupied Camryn, the District 9 girl, and Lindon, the District 3 boy. This way, in painting herself to match the tree, she could be undisturbed and watch the alliances form around her.

About an hour of careful scrutiny later, a bell rang, and the speakers blared as head trainer Arkadios called the tributes in for lunch. Heron was starving, and eagerly headed to the lunchroom with the rest of the group.

**District 10 male, Boss Dalton:**

Boss liked Joel a lot. Joel was taller than Boss was, but Boss was more muscular, so Boss figured that the two together would make one really strong, powerful guy, and one kind of weak, skinny, and short guy. Well, the weak, skinny, short guy they made wouldn't be too much help, but at least they had one strong and powerful guy in their alliance. Boss blinked his thoughts away. They were confusing him.

At least the both of them had wanted powerful allies. The two would be better together than apart. Boss slapped a giant hunk of steak onto his plate, and as an after thought, piled some rosemary roasted squash on the side. Huge grin plastered on his face, Boss followed Joel to a table towards the center of the room.

Taking a look around, Boss saw the Career Alliance sitting in the table diagonally across from them, laughing loudly and taking up as much space as possible. The District 7 pair was sitting at their own table, across from the busty District 12 girl, and the three seemed very well acquainted with each other already. Had Boss not had an ally already, and had the District 12 girl not been otherwise occupied, Boss might have approached the District 12 girl to have a certain "understanding" with her.

Boss began haphazardly slicing at his beef. Tender and juicy, it jetted a stream of blood at Joel instead of neatly splitting apart. Boss looked on in surprise as the red juice hit Joel on the cheek and splashed down onto his shirt. Joel held onto his glass tighter, fingers white at the pressure. Boss giggled as Joel blinked. Joel glared at the other boy, but softened as Boss took his own napkin to pat at the liquid dripping down his cheek. Joel looked away rather than keep eye contact with his new ally.

"Stop," Joel said, brushing Boss away.

"What, we can't have you going out looking like that," Boss joked. "You'd start a whole new fashion trend in the Capitol. And the Capitolites look gross enough already without blood dripping down their faces."

Joel couldn't help but smile, but took the handkerchief from Boss to wipe down his own face. Boss grinned, and went back to his plate, picking around the squelchy squash.

Eli, the boy from District 5, came close to their table, but as the boys looked up simultaneously at him, he suddenly felt self-conscious, and wary of the two stronger boys. Joel looked back down at his plate again, but Boss kept staring. Eli backed away quickly, taking a wide berth around the table, and walked towards a table in the corner, to sit by himself. Boss hated being a bully, but he knew that Eli could not survive, and if Boss got attached the smaller boy, Boss would only get himself hurt later. Boss was glad to see another, Phoenix, the superhero boy, approach Eli, but the District 5 boy studiously avoided Phoenix's gaze, and Phoenix stepped away to sit next to a lone Camryn. Feeling guilty that he'd turned Eli off help from any other tribute, Boss didn't start eating again, instead opting to watch Eli to make sure the boy was all right.

A few minutes later, the District 11 boy, Grave Red, sat down next to Eli, commenting affably on Eli's choice of food. Eli looked up, smiling warily at Grave, glad to have company. Phoenix had been far too threatening for Eli to talk with, but Grave, while taller than Eli, was at least younger. Grave was glad to have a friend, especially since Aria, his district partner, had discouraged any attempts Grave had made to try to ally with her.

Boss smirked outwardly the weaker alliances being made, but he was glad that Eli had found a friend. "They're only comforting themselves," Joel remarked.

Boss glanced back at Joel, then returned to his food. "It's a shame that they have to die. It's not that I don't care about them, I care about all of them. Vera is shy; she's only anxious about meeting new people. She may be about to die, but she cares about how other people see her. It makes her nervous; sometimes she feels as if she'd rather die than be on the big screen for so long. Brooke tries to act tough for everyone around her, but inside, she's just as scared as everyone else. The only reason she's being so public with her affection is that she knows she has to milk every last second she has with her boyfriend, because it could be her last. And David, he would do anything to protect a loved one. But in this case, that might be the wrong thing to do, and he knows that he may have made the worst mistake in his life. Camryn is young, but she's mature. The only reason she's mature is that she was forced to it, probably by a childhood gone awry, and from the lack of a nurturing figure in her life."

Joel watched Boss, unblinking. He was impressed by the younger boy's astute judge of character, but didn't let it show on his face.

Boss looked back at the silent Joel. "What?" Boss asked, bemused.

Joel smirked. "Nothing."

"Five minutes before the training center opens again," Arkadios called out.

Boss's eyes widened, and he quickly began sawing at his steak again, trying to shove as much as possible into his mouth before he'd have to train again.

**District 11 male, Grave Red Pettingel:**

While Grave was glad to have an ally, Eli was beginning to get on his nerves quite a bit. Grave supposed allying with Eli would have some benefits, but all Eli did during training was follow Grave around nervously and cling like sticky wheat paste. Grave tried to practice wrestling with the trainers, but the trainer, seeing Grave with an ally, paired him up with Eli while the trainer himself left to help the Careers practice. Grave was stuck weight training instead, next to Joel and Boss. Listening to their banter, Grave wished that he'd sat next to Joel and Boss and lunch rather than with Eli. But the pair had seemed so involved, that Grave hadn't wanted to disturb them.

Eli still hung around, though he could only lift the lighter weights meant for female tributes. Grave put down his weight next to his seat, and stood up to talk to Eli. "Hey, buddy," he said, placing a hand on Eli's shoulder. "I saw how good you were getting this morning."

Grave actually didn't know what Eli had been doing that morning – he'd been busy learning how to use blades better, and trying out basic wrestling moves in the hand-to-hand combat station – but he figured Eli must've done _something_ in the morning, and that something could prove to be useful in the Games. Eli's face brightened considerably, and he nodded up at Grave. "I was learning the blowgun this morning, I could do that again. It could help us!"

With that Eli ran off eagerly back to the smaller weapons station. Grave let out a sigh of relief, but he didn't think blowguns would be helpful in killing people. Perhaps Eli could irritate the other tributes with a blowgun dart's mild stinging pain, but the darts couldn't even injure the others, not even slightly.

Grave looked over at the other two boys in the weights section with him, but saw them sitting in such comfortable quietude that he couldn't bring himself to walk over. They seemed so at ease with each other, that Grave felt wrong trying to join the alliance. Going back to his weights, Grave let his eyes wander over the rest of the tributes.

The Career Alliance had taken over the Gauntlet, and was now running it, one after the other, swinging their weapons flashily and intimidating the rest of the tributes. The District 4 girl seemed to be falling behind a little bit, but not by much, and the Careers from District 1 were nice enough to wait for her at the end of the obstacle course. The couple from District 7 had not split from each other's sides all day, and the District 12 girl trailed along besides them. Grave wasn't really sure how that alliance worked, but if it worked for them, then that was good for them. Grave laughed to himself as he saw the District 8 boy dawdling around all the girl tributes in the Training Center, apparently trying to get himself a bedmate for the Games. The chubby little boy from District 3 worked on a snare in the snares and traps station, and Grave was astonished at the speed with which the boy set up the trap. Either the boy had had previous experience, which was unlikely, given the shape of the boy's body, or the boy was fairly intelligent, learning things in hours that would've taken Grave days to master. The trap itself wasn't very useful at all, since it wouldn't kill its prey, but the trap was still rather neat, as was the speed with which the boy set it up. The strange District 9 boy sat by himself near the tree planted in the Center, apparently meditating. Grave wondered at how anyone could meditate at such a time of stress, but the boy seemed calm and far happier and comfortable than anyone else in the Center.

Grave decided he would try his hand at meditation, so he began taking deeper breaths, all while still lifting his weights. After a while, Grave gave up, unable to concentrate. It wasn't his fault that he had no motivation to sit still all day. He'd been pulled out of school at 9 to begin providing for his family, but he didn't mind working at all, especially not to provide for his two younger brothers. What Grave was good at was working with his hands and on his feet. And there was no better way to hone those skills than to learn from the wrestling trainer in the hand-to-hand combat station.

Getting into stance in front of the trainer, Grave decided Eli could be useful. The petite boy could learn all about edible plants and insects, and they'd keep each other alive as long as possible, so Grave would finally be able to go home to his parents and his sisters and brothers. Sure, no one else in here deserved to die, least of all Eli. But Grave didn't deserve to die either, and his family definitely did not deserve to lose a son and a brother.

_A/N: Longer POV's from here on. Hope you guys like this format. I wrote some of this while watching Capture, which is like a Hunger Games type reality TV show. It was way worse than I'd hoped for. But it feels like something I'd love to do/be in... The last chapter didn't pull in as many reviews, but thankfully, I liked writing about the training center. But if you guys want the next update to be as fast as this one was, you know what to do!.. Read and review c: And again, thanks for everyone for reviewing the last chapter, and continuing to support and read my writing. Cheerio c:_


	7. I Swear I'll Let You Down

**District 2 male, Hayden Levy:**

It was the second day of training, and Hayden had only spoken up in his alliance four times. He was about to speak a fifth.

The Careers had just reunited at the Gauntlet again on the morning of the second day of training. They'd become more comfortable with each other, and Jasper was telling some amusing story or the other about the District 1 escort that had happened earlier that morning, but Hayden wasn't listening. The mindless chatter going on vexed him. The group should have been training, honing their bodies to the maximum potential before they were thrown in an arena. Instead, they were standing around yapping as if they were Capitolites about to only watch the Hunger Games rather than tributes about to actually be in the Hunger Games.

Hayden knew he had a commanding presence. The sheer size of his body was enough to speak for itself. When he spoke, he wasn't loud about it. But everyone turned to listen, and even Jasper shut up for a while.

"Has anyone here been even looking at the other tributes?" Hayden asked, simply.

The group just stared at him, surprised that he'd actually spoken.

"Well, yeah, but they're all kind of not training with weapons." Riva spoke first. "You know, all at the survival stations and all."

"They'll be easy to pick off," Jasper scoffed.

Hayden stood there, waiting for the group to finish agreeing with each other on how everyone else was so weak.

"Wiress. 47th Hunger Games. Small and overlooked, but won the Games through her _intelligence_. Chaff. 45th Hunger Games. A playful underdog no one really looked at. He surprised everyone practically just by existing. Setae. 38th Hunger Games. So small everyone just overlooked her. And Haymitch Abernathy. District 12, Victor of the 50th Hunger Games. Who saw that coming?"

The group was stunned into silence. No one had ever heard him string that many words together before. Hayden exhaled, running one hand angrily through his hair, still tinged dark blue from the Chariot rides. _And I'm supposed to work with these idiots_, he thought bitterly to himself.

"What I mean to say is that all the lower Districts are allying together this year." All the Careers were listening now. "You don't just underestimate everyone before you meet them. I think the biggest threat right now is the alliance between the District 12 and the District 10 boys. Joel and Boss. And you know what they say – keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer."

Jasper immediately saw where Hayden was going with his speech. "What you're saying," he began slowly, "is that we should watch them carefully. But more than watch them carefully, we have to keep them close. And to keep them close–"

"We let them into our alliance!" Jade broke in excitedly.

"Exactly," Hayden said. "Of course, we won't mean to let them win; we'll kill them as soon as they're of no use to us. But in the meanwhile, we take advantage of their skills and make sure they think we're not a threat to them. This way, we keep ourselves safe from a possible threat, and convenience ourselves by not having to hunt for them when we do want to kill them. Current, I think you're the friendliest looking guy here. Why don't you go have a chat with them?"

Current nodded, and headed casually toward the weights section. The Careers shared a conspiratorial smile, and broke apart for the day.

**District 3 male, Lindon Yulong:**

Lindon had really gotten into building traps. Last night, his mentor, Lucius Grey, had told Lindon to focus more on survival stations, because to trap anyone in one of his snares, he first had to survive for long enough to gather the materials to build one. Lindon didn't want to learn about survival. Building intricate traps of wire and rope reminded him of building circuits with his father back in District 3.

Lindon's parents, Cable and Beatrice Yulong, had been trying for a child for almost eight years before Lindon was finally born. The many visits to the doctor had almost convinced them that they were infertile. When Lindon finally came along, the couple had never been happier in their lives. As a little boy, Lindon had never really been interested in playing tag, or hide and seek, or neutrons and protons, with the other little boys in District 3. Of course, his father never minded. It meant that this miracle child's parents got to spend more time with their baby.

Cable Yulong's factory accident left him paralyzed, but this didn't change the father's relationship with his son. Where Cable could only spend time after work teaching his son about the enigma of technology, he now was forced to spend all day inside, and could spend all his time with his son. Lindon was a papa's boy, and loved learning. Circuit boards were one of the first, most basic things Cable taught Lindon.

Lucius wanted Lindon to survive. Lindon knew that all mentors wanted their tributes to survive. But Lindon knew also he couldn't provide that for his mentor. He was only twelve, and incredibly out of shape. No matter how much he trained and no matter how much he learned over these few days, there was no way that he'd win the Games. What would happen if Lindon got down to the final two, and was forced to fight a Career? The Career certainly wouldn't make his death quick – the audience would want a show. And there was absolutely no way Lindon would let his parents go through the pain of watching their only child be tortured to death.

It wasn't that Lindon _wanted_ to die. It was just the opposite. Lindon wanted so badly to live; he wanted so badly to just go home to his parents and to Intelle, but he _knew_ he had a statistically negligible chance of making it back. He wasn't trying to die, but he wasn't trying all that hard to live a few extra days in misery, either. So all he was doing was choosing to do was to not to prolong his suffering and to not to give everyone the hope that he might make it. This would be best for everyone. Lindon would just stick with his traps and snares.

**District 4 male, Current Beckett:**

Current sloppily ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to arrange himself in a more favorable light before he talked to the alliance of the two lower district boys. Of course Current had already seen the two as a threat, but he hadn't wanted to bring it up with the others, because he knew that the others would see him differently if he'd mentioned it. Current knew that the group already saw Hayden in a different light, just from his speech that morning alone. Current wanted to be enough of a contribution to the group that they didn't let him go, but at the same time, he definitely didn't want them to know everything he could do. The element of surprise, though overused in every Games, was still helpful. The benefit of being able to surprise the others wasn't that the others wouldn't know that Current was hiding something. Everyone in the Career group was hiding something or the other. The benefit of being able to surprise the others was that none of the other Careers would know exactly what Current had hidden.

Current slid onto the bench next to Joel, and clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Hey, dudes," he grinned at the two boys next to him.

Boss had begun to smile back when Joel spun around and glared at Current, brim full of distrust. "What do you want?" Joel snarled.

Current's eyes flickered as they met Joel's cold, green orbs. He flashed back to the day when his mother had a hangover so bad that she seemed not to be able to recognize her own son. Current had been 10, and Naia was only a toddler at the age of 2. This was the first time that Current's mother had drank so much that she'd passed out in a pool of her own vomit in their living room. Before she crashed to the ground, Current had tried to get her into her bed. But instead of following Current, she'd only stared at him with glassy eyes, rage simmering deep inside somewhere. Current knew the alcohol only covered up something inside, and didn't fix any problems the family faced, but as a child, he had absolutely no idea how to deal with any of this.

His mother had taken to the bottle after Naia was born, and that drove Current's father farther and farther away from home. Current wasn't sure which had been worse – coming home from school every night to a crying mother, which was what he'd done for the first few months after Naia had been born, or coming home to a mother self-medicated and crashing around from alcohol abuse. His mother had always been more distant than his father, but Current still loved her, and was afraid that this new turn of events would completely drive his father away. Many of Current's school friends had had parents who had divorced, and Current knew that in District 4, it wasn't as big of a deal as it was in the agricultural districts, since the seafaring life made the people freer with their lives and their loves. But Current still wanted a whole family, even if it meant that he had to take care of Naia and their mother every night instead of going to the pier with his friends and laughing the night away.

Current had only been stunned into silence for a moment before Boss decided he trusted the District 4 boy. "Hey, man," Boss welcomed Current straight away. "Whatcha looped?"

Current blinked, confused by the jargon.

Boss laughed. "Oh right, you ain't from District 10. What I meant is, how are you?"

Current grinned, falling immediately into the easy banter. Joel twisted back to face Boss. There must have had a silent exchange between the two in looks alone, because next thing, Joel grudgingly turned forward again and began throwing a weighted ball up and down, casually threatening. Current knew that if he made the wrong move, the weighted ball could very well be replaced with his head.

"Well, I've got to say, I've been rather impressed with how much you two can lift," Current complimented the two amiably.

Joel grunted, but didn't look at Current.

Current continued. "And the Career alliance knows you two would want to be with other strong tributes. You know, to pick off the weaker ones."

Joel smirked, but Boss blanched. Current noted it, and stored the information away for later. Boss immediately recovered and chuckled. "No, yeah. I get that. Makes sense. Joel and I need to talk about it first."

Current nodded, but knew that they were hooked like shore mullet on a hot summer day. With a half wave and a cocked head, Current sauntered away to work with the tridents, knowing the boys were watching him every step of the way.

**District 6 male, Phoenix Wilder:**

Phoenix had originally hoped to ally with his district partner, Vera, but the girl had been far too demanding. She'd seemed nice enough at first, and Phoenix had felt bad that she hadn't had as much as he'd had back in the District, but he really couldn't stand how controlling the girl was.

Lunchtime was the time everyone made alliances. Phoenix wanted to have someone with him in the arena. Ideally, he would've had the Night Falcon, his sidekick, with him, and together, they'd have saved the lower districts from slaughter. But he knew that only one could win, so Phoenix was determined to ally with a lower district tribute and save him or her.

Currently, Boss and Joel were sitting in their special little table all alone, and the Careers had taken over another. The couple and the District 12 girl were in their own little world, while Patch, the District 8 boy, seemed to have snatched away Phoenix's district partner. Eli, the District 5 boy, sat with Grave, the District 11 boy, who nodded incessantly as Eli eagerly chattered on. Only the District 3 boy and girl, the District 9 boy, and the Districts 5, 8, 9, and 10 girls were sitting alone. Phoenix stood motionless with a platter of roasted lamb over fried cauliflower, green beans in garlic butter and mashed potatoes in one hand and a dish with a strawberry lemon tart and a peanut butter pie with a side of chocolate fudge ice cream topped with caramel sauce and coconut shavings in the other.

The District 3 pair was sitting at the same table, but separate from each other. They both studiously avoided his gaze. While Phoenix had originally wanted to help the poor twelve-year-old Lindon of District 3, seeing him at lunchtime made Phoenix realize that Lindon was probably not interested in his help. Elias, the quiet District 9 boy, rather intimidated Phoenix with how serene he was. Rather than admitting to the fact that he was intimidated, Phoenix reasoned with himself that Elias, being so calm, probably didn't need his help.

The District 5, 8, and 10 girls all seemed pretty strong to him. They sat at three separate corners of the same table, quiet yet solid. Phoenix avoided them, having never really had the chance to talk to girls before, being homeschooled by his Peacekeeper father to avoid all the "dirty District-folk".

The District 9 girl, however, looked desperate for company. She sat very straight in her seat, cutting her food into neat pieces before biting down. She appeared unfazed by the noise from the Career table, but Phoenix didn't miss how she flinched when the District 1 girl screeched with laughter.

Approaching her, Phoenix spread a smile on to his face. "Cami, am I right?"

**District 9 male, Elias Rendon:**

Time seemed to pass differently for Elias than for everyone else. The day of training had passed without too much consequence. The Careers normally would've picked on someone like Elias, but they stayed away from the District 9 boy, respecting his space. The District 1 boy, Jasper, had tried to come over to taunt Elias at one point, but suddenly felt himself growing insecure as he approached the younger boy. After that, they left him alone.

At dinner with his district partner, the mentors, and the escort, Greenwich, Elias didn't speak, letting conversation flow around him. Elias stuck with the blander foods, knowing he didn't need to overindulge in the sham the Capitol provided. Camryn chattered excitedly to her mentor, Ceria, about how she'd made an ally out of the District 6 boy that day. Camryn tried to act more mature most of the time, but when she was excited, she got very excited. Elias thought it a type of endearing, and decided that if he'd ever had a little sister, she would have been like Camryn.

Elias cut another piece of chicken breast and fed it to himself. He was aware of the fact that the table had gone quiet. He looked up from his quiet contemplation, and realized they were all staring at him expectantly. He blinked innocuously. Greenwich sighed and shook his head sadly. Elias knew they didn't expect him to make it very far. To be honest, he didn't expect himself to come out the other end, either. That would mean at least one person would've had to die for him, and Elias would never allow that to happen. If he won, then it was meant to be. But he wouldn't run around going berserker like some of the Careers did, slaughtering children for fun.

The night passed without too much excitement. Elias went to bed early, opting to sleep on the carpet, which was soft enough, rather than the overly plush bed. Between the sheets, he felt as if he were sinking into a smothering cloud of silk. The floor was much more concrete, and natural.

Elias spent the third day much as he'd spent the past two – sitting on the ropes course above the climbing tree, legs crossed, leaning against the tree trunk, eyes closed. The Gamemakers had long since taken interest and then lost interest in the District 9 boy. Every once in a while, Elias felt the curious eyes of the other tributes trying to pry into his thoughts, but none ever succeeded.

After about half an hour, everyone was ushered to wait a private session with the Gamemakers. Elias knew he wouldn't have his chance until way after lunch, so he sat back for a long wait. One by one, he felt the tributes go in, perform for the Gamemakers, and then leave out the back. He felt the Gamemakers slowly lose interest in the tributes, and begin to stop watching as the Careers finished their flashy performances.

Elias refused lunch, and not too long later, his District partner was called in. He opened his eyes for a moment to blink reassuringly at Camryn, and she went in, head held high.

Elias felt Camryn pick up all the poisonous plants, rub them onto the tips of her arrows, and stand shakily before the targets. He sent a reassuring ray of confidence to her, and hoped it would reach her through the steel doors. Camryn swallowed, and her legs stopped shaking. Face grimly set, she shot her first arrow. It hummed through the air, and while it didn't hit dead center, it made it onto the target. Elias could tell the Gamemakers weren't paying too much attention, but there was always one or two watching out of the corners of their eyes, so he knew that Camryn would get a score or another, and that it wouldn't be completely unfair. Out of the twenty arrows she shot in her session, eighteen hit the target, and six hit the red bull's-eye. A Gamemaker called out a thoughtless good-bye, and waved Camryn out the door to the elevator to the tributes' apartments.

A few minutes of gallivanting and frolicking later, the Gamemakers sent out a young Capitolite to call Elias in. Before the intern to the Gamemakers scurried out to call Elias, he'd already stood up and was making his way to the door. Elias could feel the eyes of the Gamemakers boring into him. He was an enigma, and the Gamemakers loved a puzzle. He padded his way steadily into the very center of the training floor, and took a seat, cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began to meditate. The very center of the room was where the power was all stored, thrumming and vibrant. Elias drew from this, and waited.

Five minutes passed in a flash. Bored, the Gamemakers had gone back to their feast, where a quail stuffed inside a chicken, inside a duck, inside a pheasant, inside a turkey, inside a peacock, had just made its way onto the table. One Gamemaker stopped swigging champagne for long enough to send a trainer to send Elias away.

The trainer was a six foot two, two hundred and thirty pound chunk of muscle that made no sound when he walked. Elias cracked a faint smile that went by unnoticed. He was hoping that they'd send this trainer over. Suddenly, the Gamemakers heard a loud crack, followed by a thump. Their heads whipped over in unison to see the trainer lying on the ground, moaning in pain, curled up in a ball, dust rising from the mat from where the trainer had made an impact. Elias was nowhere to be seen, but the Gamemakers caught sight of the door to the tributes' apartments swinging shut.

**District 11 female, Aria Rosenthall:**

One of the Gamemakers was young. He must have only been in his early twenties, and to have such a high position – well, he either had to be very good at what he did, or his parents were very wealthy indeed. He seemed to be the only one watching Aria's private session, not that Aria had done anything yet. Her stomach had turned inside out with nerves, but now her stomach flipped because even from this far away, the young Gamemakers' eyes were _so_ green.

Aria dropped her eyes so the young man wouldn't catch her staring. Head down, face burning, she walked toward the weapons section.

As a child, she'd had an attack once when a bigger girl had chased her, trying to get Aria to give her lunch up. Running down an alleyway, Aria found she was trapped between a brick wall and the bigger girl. That was when one of her attacks came on. They always seemed to happen at the worst of times. Probably starving and completely disregarding Aria, the bigger girl snatched Aria's lunch away and ran off. Aria was left doubled over, wheezing, vomiting blood into the cold snow. The snow melted around her and deepened to a precious shade of dark pink, and Jeremy Carath came running into the alley.

At the time, Aria had never before talked to Jeremy. He was just another one of her classmates who were better off and never had to deal with what she and her family had to deal with. Jeremy had seen the bigger girl chase Aria into an alleyway, and come running out with the lunch bag. Running into the alleyway, Jeremy found Aria lying in a pool of ice blood. Jeremy had never before seen that amount of blood. He carried Aria home, back to his family, who ended up adopting her, as her family couldn't provide the medical care Aria desperately needed.

Because of her illness, Aria soon found herself unable to attend school without an attack every few days. The Caraths were kind enough to provide her tutors, Aria filling in as the daughter they'd always wanted but never had been able to produce. To fill her free time, Aria took up aerial swords, an old dance form long forgotten. While she didn't win any prizes with her talent, she and her mentor realized it could help her with the Gamemakers. It would make her unique, and unforgettable.

Grabbing a handful of swords by their hilts, Aria motioned away a trainer who had stepped up to try to fight her. Confused by the amount of swords she'd grabbed and by the dismissal, the trainer spun in a half circle in one direction, and then in the other, before melting away into the sidelines. Taking the swords to the target range, she was glad that they'd already been set up in a circle.

Aria took a deep breath, and began by throwing all the swords simultaneously up into the air.

**District 12 female, Evangeline Chauncer:**

Brooke and David were waiting for Eve when she came out of her private session. Her session had been rather successful. The Gamemakers hadn't been watching her, but she'd done well, and Eve assumed that there had at least been something recording her to get her a reasonable score. She'd remade all of the traps and snares she'd learned in the past few days, and they'd all worked. And now her allies were waiting for her, and nothing could be better.

At first, Eve had tried to seduce David into being allies with her. The idea that someone could leave his girlfriend for her excited Eve, and even though she knew that it would make her a target for Brooke, Eve didn't think too much of the consequences.

But after spending some time with her new friends, she started feeling bad about double-crossing Brooke. After all, Brooke wasn't an awful person or a terrible girlfriend. After a while, Eve decided she'd just be a friend to the two of them, but if David were to approach her about a deeper relationship, she certainly wouldn't mind.

All her two District 7 allies had to do was give her a look to tell her they wanted to know how her session had been. "I think it was good," Eve smiled up at the pair reassuringly. They were both younger than her, but stood a good head above her.

At the seventh floor, Brooke tugged David out of the elevator, leaving Eve alone. Eve contentedly watched the floor numbers lit up as the elevator rose even higher to the top floor apartment. At the twelfth floor, the doors opened, and Linus Romulus sat nearby nervously.

Eve hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for her. Joel was completely unreceptive to her advances, and Haymitch was drunk about 110% of the time. Linus seemed nice, but mostly uninterested. But as soon as Eve stepped into the apartment, he approached her and asked her how she'd done. She'd given some soothing answer or the other, and they stepped into the living room where the training scores were being broadcasted on the television. Joel had already made himself comfortable on a recliner, so Eve perched herself on the edge of a velvet sofa on the other side of the room of him. Haymitch was nowhere to be seen.

A few ads later, the room lit up with color as the screen seemingly burst into fireworks. Eve shrieked faintly and fell back into her sofa. An announcer wearing the exact outfit of the District 4 girl, Riva, appeared onscreen. He waited for the cheers of the live studio audience to calm before he launched into a speech about how excited he was to see the scores of the tributes, live on television, for the very first time. Eve drew her knees up to her buxom chest and hugged them as close as she could.

The first to appear was the District 1 girl. Jade Murdoch had gotten a 10, and Eve shivered with fear. She knew that the Careers from Districts 1, 2, and 4 usually had high scores, usually above a 7, but she'd been hoping they wouldn't be too good. Jade's brother and district partner Jasper showed up next with a score of 9. Eve wondered if the sibling rivalry would start to kick in as Jasper had received a lower score than Jade had.

All thoughts of sibling disputes vanished from Eve's mind as the District 2 girl and boy received a 10 and an 11 for their training scores, respectively. Even Joel tensed up on his recliner, from the other side of the room. A 10 was an excellent score for a Career, but an 11 was a downright rarity. The District 2 boy was definitely dangerous. Eve hoped she'd never encounter him in the Games.

The score given to the girl from District 3 made Eve feel better. Bo had only gotten a 5, and her district partner had received a 4. A 5 was nothing to laugh at, of course, but at least Bo hadn't gotten a Career score. But with the District 4 pair, the scores shot up again. Riva, the girl, received an 8, while her district partner, Current, was awarded a 9. Eve remembered Current well – he was rather cute, and at one point during training, Eve was sure that Current had winked at her.

The District 5 girl, Jocileia, stared straight into the camera. The score that appeared below her was a 5, which Eve found funny – a 5 for District 5. The painfully shy District 5 boy, Eli, couldn't even look directly at the camera, and only received a 3.

The District 6 girl Vera looked out with an anxious smile on her face. She'd received a 5 as well. The superhero boy, Phoenix, received a 6, which Eve was surprised to see. She'd assumed his superhero training or powers or whatever it was that Phoenix would have would get him a Career score, or closer to one at least. But a 6 was still a very good score, and she knew Phoenix would not complain.

Eve sat up straight for the next two scores. They were her friends, and she wanted to see how they'd done almost even more than she wanted to see how she'd done. Brooke's familiar face appeared face, grimly smiling at Eve. Eve smiled back. A 7 appeared under Brooke's chin, and Eve squealed, falling back into the sofa and clapping. Joel glared at her, but Eve didn't care. Brooke had done very, very well. Eve quieted down again when David grinned out at her, and she felt her heart beat speed up slightly. Sure, David was younger than her, but he certainly was cute and mature enough. David had received a 5, which was nothing to laugh at, but it wasn't incredible either, and Eve felt disappointed – she'd wanted to see a higher score for David, because that would mean he'd get more sponsors.

The District 8 girl and boy received a 5 and a 6, respectively. This was of no consequence to Eve, but she noted that these scores were higher than usual. The District 9 girl and boy received a 6 and a 7, respectively, even higher than the District 8 pair. Eve began to get nervous. The District 10 girl, Brittany, had a score that fell down again – she'd only received a 4, and Eve felt better. When Boss, the District 10 boy, spun onto screen, Eve saw how Joel suddenly tensed up. Eve smiled, knowing Boss and her District partner were allies, and secretly hoped that Boss would get a lower score. But Eve's hopes were dashed when a bright 9 appeared, and Joel let out a silent breath.

Eve didn't pay attention to the District 11 scores, suddenly nervous about how the Gamemakers had perceived her. She noticed the boy and the girl received a 6 and a 5, respectively, before Joel popped up on screen. Joel sat forward, and Eve saw his relief when a large 8 materialized.

Suddenly, Eve saw herself smiling down from the display. It seemed that her score took forever to show. Eve's heartbeat suddenly felt far too loud, rushing in her ears, inside her head. Eve vaguely registered Joel sweeping out of the room, but only felt mildly annoyed at her district partner's confidence.

And then, there it was – her score. She'd gotten a 4 from the Gamemakers. A last moment of silence reverberated before the announcer popped back on screen and began describing how excited he'd felt through the broadcast of the scores. Eve stood up, and ran from the room.

A 4? That was almost the lowest score anyone had gotten in this Games. Only that little boy, Eli, had gotten lower. Eve somehow managed to find her bed through her tears, and flung herself down, sobbing. It wasn't that she resented the low score, and thought that she should've gotten a higher one – it was that she'd marked herself for the Bloodbath. Everyone would think her weak, now, and think of her as not much of a threat. And not only had she marked herself, but she'd also marked Brooke and David.

Eve cried until she was exhausted, and no one cared enough to come comfort her. About an hour later, her tears had dried, and she fell into a restless, troubled sleep.

_A/N: The longest chapter so far! But not by a lot. Sorry this update took so long - it was really tough for me to write, and I've had a lot of stuff going on. So I'm off to college in a week and a half. I'm going to try to update at least twice before then, and hopefully get to the Games by then, but once I start, I can't promise fast updates any more, because I'll be off doing things like making friends and living life (I know right? What even is life?). And thank you, everyone, for reading and reviewing - keep it up! We'll hit 100 reviews soon c:_


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